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autisticsupervillain · 4 years

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The Makara Sisters

Ladies and gentlemen, it's finally here. My villainstuck Calliope post. @icedreaper I certainly hope you enjoy my friend.

Now this. This provides me with a fascinating challenge. How do you corrupt someone who is inherently good? Calliope is the heroic half of Caliborn. That seems as close to incorruptible as you can be in the Homestuck multiverse. Well, Calliope is about to learn that good is a very subjective term. The road to hell is paved with good intentions after all.

Our tale begins on Earth C. Calliope had moved in next to Roxy, as she was one of the people she knew best. Calliope is still a bit of a fangirl and casually rooming up with the people she idolized is kinda overwhelming for her. As such, she spends most of her time with Roxy and her friends. It’s not until years later that she gets to have another long conversation with any of the Beta Kids.

It happens during a party. The 5 year anniversary of the day the kids beat the game. Roxy had voided up all the necessities, with a little help from Jane for reference. That night, Calliope sees Dave sitting at a table completely smashed. Calliope asks if he’s doing alright and immediately sees through Dave’s bullshit when he insists he is. Calliope is best friends with Roxy. She knows what grief drinking looks like at this point and that’s exactly what Dave is doing. If he were sober, Dave would be able to keep his mask on and brush of Calliope's concern. But, he’s completely hammered, so he starts running his mouth. Dave admits that, while he was setting up the speakers and trying to get the music to sound right, Dirk surprised him.

The way Dirk was dressed, with his hat and his shades, and with how much he’d grown over the years, for a minute, Dirk looked a lot like Bro. Dave freezes up and flashes back for a minute before Dirk snap him out of it. Dirk comforts Dave about it as Dave vents his heart out at him for a bit. Basically retreading the conversation from when Dave gives him that big hug. Bro’s abuse still happened and that still creeps in sometimes. So, it’s good that the Striders can have these conversations. After a few cracks at how “fucked in the head" they are, the Striders begin pondering their counterparts. More specifically, Alpha Dave. Dave speculates that Alpha Dave was who he would’ve grown up to be if he didn’t have John, Rose, and Jade to lean on. Of course, sense Dirk doesn’t really know him well enough to define Alpha Dave as a person, that doesn’t really clear anything up. That just leaves the uncomfortable question of what a Dave without friends would’ve looked like. Especially with the way Bro turned out.

Soon the party started, and Dirk advised Dave to have fun and take his mind off it. Dave tries, but finds he can’t. It’s eating at him more than it should and he decides to go for a drink. One drink turns to several and then Calliope showed up.

At the end of his drunken ramble, Calliope expresses her sympathy. While she doesn’t know Dave very well, she knows someone in a similar situation to Alpha Dave. She mentions her God-Tier counterpart and reassures Dave that, while Calliope did become a much colder person, she did not become a bad one. Dave is a good person at heart and Calliope assures him that he always will be, regardless of what happens. That’s when Dirk and Rose show up. Dirk thanks Calliope for comforting Dave and explains that he figured something like this would happen and went to fetch Rose to help. Calliope watches them drag Dave home so they could talk to him in private before returning to the party.

The next day, Dave invites Calliope over and thanks her for giving him someone to lean on. The two start visiting regularly and they quickly become friends. They talk about their alternate selves often and Dave eventually mentions that he would’ve liked to meet his Alpha counterpart, if only to put his fears to rest. When Calliope asks if he’s ever discussed this with Dirk, Dave says that it’d be awkward. Bro was a terrible person and all it’d do is make Dirk feel worse about himself. So, Calliope just suggests asking John to let him visit Alpha Dave and Dave goes quiet. He takes a deep breath, figuring that he’s already dumped a lot on Calliope as it is, so there’s no backing out now. He admits that he’s scared to see what his Alpha counterpart is like. Dave has quite a few flaws himself and given how Dirk turned out…

Calliope mentions Davesprite, who had a nasty life himself but still turned out to be a good person, but Dave still remains hesitant. He clams up and Calliope admits that this is probably a conversation he should have with Rose or Dirk. Calliope apologizes for making her company awkward but Dave still thanks her as she leaves. He needed a fresh set of eyes to look at his issues before he began talking them out with his closer friends.

After a few days of stewing on the issue, Dave finally calls up Rose to have a chat with her. Rose brings up a lot of the same points Calliope and ultimately gets to the root of where this new issue comes from. Now that Dave has had time to process how harmful most of what he’s been raised on actually is, he’s worried about how it’s effected him as a person. Basically, he’s worried he might end up as a terrible person because Bro was a terrible person and that constant fear of failure that Bro’s abuse instilled in him is keeping him from just dissipating these feelings logically. Sure, Dave knows he’s not a bad person. He knows, logically, that he’s just a kid trying his best to be a good person. But, Bro instilled a bunch of self loathing in him by constantly beating the shit out of him when he was a kid. That doesn’t just go away. Rose is smart and she knows Dave well enough to comfort him, but she’s not the psychoanalytical genius she used to think she was. The only advice she can give him is from the heart. So, she admits that Dave venting to her was a good first step. But the only one who will know whether or not meeting Alpha Dave will help or not is him. All she can do is listen to and support him. It’s up to Dave to decide if he thinks that will be enough.

A few more days of contemplation later, Dave approaches John and asks him to help meet Alpha Dave.

The two Dave’s talk for awhile, after Alpha Dave calms down from seeing two young men in pajamas spontaneously appear right in front of him. Alpha Dave sympathizes with the younger Strider once he’s all caught up and admits that he didn’t have the best life growing up either. So that’s why he’s being earnest when he says that Dave’s handling it the best he can. Your upbringing doesn’t define you, you define you. And Dave has defined himself a good person who loves his friends and is working hard to work through his trauma. After a big hug, Alpha Dave asks if he could meet Dirk and Davesprite.

On the day of Dirk’ birthday party, Dirk is greeted at home by three Daves instead of two. Cue Strider group hug.

After a long party, Alpha Dave expresses how happy he is to have finally met Dirk. He expresses how happy he is to see two versions of himself grew up to get happy endings and shows how proud he is in Dirk. Even if he’s destined to die, he can die happy knowing that his little bro grows up happy.

Calliope gets caught up by John about the goings on after Alpha Dave returns to his own timeline. She’s happy to know that she helped the Striders, indirectly or otherwise, and Dirk thanks her for giving him the happiest party of his life.

After everything winds down and people start turning in for the night, Calliope thoughts return to God-Tier Calliope, thanks to Alpha Dave reminding her of her. She contemplates if getting to see Earth C and make friends like she did would make her happier.

She waits a few months before asking John for help again, letting him cool off from all the time traveling, partying, and emotional catharsis. She asks him to take her to wear the Green Sun used to be so she can grab God-Tier Calliope’s body and bring her back to be revived by Jane.

God-Tier Calliope is very put off by her new surroundings. A massive, life filled world, filled with other sentient, sapient life forms. She has a hard time opening up and she always comes off as distant next to her counterpart. Not unpleasant, just cold.

She tries to open. Tries to make friends. Calliope insists that this is what made her happy. But it just doesn’t click. Calliope ponders the problem over before coming to a realization. All the ways she was able to contact her human friends. All the technology. All the toys. That had to be given to her by someone. Both Calliopes have vague memories of someone caring for them when they were younger… but they just couldn’t remember who.

So, Calliope asks John for another big favor in order to find out who raised her. When the two find out it was Gamzee, Calliope is ecstatic to have a father figure like what Jane and John had, only for John to cough awkwardly and elaborate who Gamzee actually is. John doesn’t know all the details himself, but he does know that Gamzee apparently killed some of Karkat’s friends and attempted some more horrible stuff. Calliope is distraught but John can’t give any more details. Neither Karkat or Vriska like to talk about it. Dejected, Calliope and John return where Calliope briefs her God-Tier counterpart on the situation.

So, God-Tier Calliope just teleports over to Karkat and bluntly asks about Gamzee. The naked, showering Karkat proceeds to screech his lungs out.

After patiently waiting out Karkat’s tantrum, Calliope clarifies that Gamzee may have been her father. Karkat pauses before shoeing her out of the room so he can finish his shower.

Then John teleports in to warn him about Calliope and Karkat screeches again.

After Karkat finally wraps up and gets dressed, he and John sit down with the Calliopes to explain. John questions whether or not he should be a part of this, but Karkat insists. Honesty is the backbone of a healthy relationship and the Gamzee thing has been eating at him for awhile now. Karkat explains that Gamzee was one of his best friends, even if he didn’t always treat him like it. Which is something that Karkat regrets seeing how he snapped and started murdering people. Karkat would’ve tried to calm him down, stop him, but that plan got shunted aside thanks to the retcon. Karkat goes into self loathing mode, he doesn’t even know why Gamzee started killing people and he blames himself for that. Calliope reassures him and John helps pull him out of his funk while God-Tier Calliope just bluntly asks when and how Gamzee raised her. Karkat admits that he has no idea and that he doesn’t know where to find him now. All he can confirm is that he’s still alive. God-Tier Calliope leaves the conversation at that point, allowing her mortal counterpart to catch up with her later.

Calliope asks about her chilly demeanor and God-Tier Calliope still admits that she doesn’t still fully get this friendship thing. She can see that there’s something there between her counterpart and her friends, but she doesn’t fully get it. She just can’t feel it. After all, she’s a healthy Cherub and Cherubs don’t have friends. Regardless, Calliope tries to help give her a push in the right direction with some nicknames. From now on, everyone will refer to God-Tier Calliope as Callie, calling back to Roxy's nickname. After all, Calliope loved it when she was befriending Roxy, so surely it’ll grow on Callie.

Calliope and Callie start scouring the globe for Gamzee’s refrigerator. However, Jake ends up being the one to find it. Callie coldly thanks Jake for his assistance and awkwardly hugs him. She almost crushes his ribs, but it’s the thought that counts. Hugs are a thing that friends do after all. Callie informs Jake that, while the exact details are personal, Gamzee could potentially still be dangerous and they might need him for backup.

When Gamzee stumble out of the fridge and adjusts his eyesight, the first thing he sees is Calliope. His first instinct is to envelope her in a hug. Nearly a minute passes before he notices Callie hovering over them and Jake training a gun on him.

Gamzee tries to hug Callie as well, but she pushes him back and starts interrogating him. Even when being held several feet in the air, Gamzee is still gushing over his daughter and Callie events puts him down at Calliope’s insistence. Gamzee’s blabbering comes to a dead halt once Callie bluntly asks why he killed Nepeta and Equius. Jake notices the mood shift and awkwardly excuses himself from the conversation, making sure he’s still in yelling distance.

Gamzee sits down, stares up at the sky and confesses to everything. He killed for two reasons. One was in service to his dark master Lord English, whom he believed would destroy reality and replace it with the Dark Carnival. An eternal paradise, free from all the abandonment and suffering he’d been cursed with. The other reason was Calliope herself. When he met her, when he first saw her hatch, he fell in love with her. She was the first person in his life to love him unconditionally.

He goes on into detail about how Lil' Cal, the Gamzee part of Lil' Cal talked about Calliope in his brief moments of clarity. Gamzee didn’t believe it until he met her himself.

Calliope isn’t sure what to make of her surrogate father. He’s a bad person by his own admission and the fact that he was, to an extent, motivated by her just makes it even more complicated. Callie rests a hand on her counterpart’s shoulder and asks Gamzee why she didn’t get this treatment. Gamzee hazards a guess that his counterpart wanted her to survive in that timeline. Cherubs grow best on isolation after all. It was even something he considered doing in the main timeline, given he loved Calliope more than her “brother". Callie suggests that they take Gamzee back to the house. Live with him for a few days. Give Calliope the chance to know him and sort out her conflicted feelings, while also making sure that he’s being monitored by one of the most powerful God-Tiers on Earth should he prove to be untrustworthy.

Jake doesn’t ask what their conversation was about, as he feels like it was a private affair. He’s confident that his dear friend and her alternate counterpart can handle whatever it is they’ve gotten themselves into. However, he is asked a question by Callie: What’s a sister? Gamzee kept referring to the two of them as such. Jake and Calliope explain the concept of siblings to Callie and the two decide too adopt the term. Callie and Calliope. Twin Cherub Sisters.

Over the course of the next few months, Callie and Calliope get to know Gamzee better. Gamzee is fully remorseful for his actions. He reveals more of why he took the path he did to his daughters overtime. He talks about the Sopor. He talks about his faith. He talks about his dad. Eventually, he even brings himself to talk about Tavros.

The sisters notice the way his demeanor shifts. The mood always lightens whenever he talks about Tavros. He looks like he’s somewhere else, somewhere warmer and nicer. In those brief moments, Gamzee looks like Gamzee again.

He refuses to tell them who killed Tavros. He insists he doesn’t know.

Meanwhile, Jake has been incredibly shifty on the details of his exhibition with the Calliopes. His friends know he’s hiding something from them, Jake can’t lie for shit. But, when pressed, he tells them that it’s something the Calliopes wanted him to keep secret. So the subject is left alone.

That is, until Vriska Serket catches wind of it.

It starts innocuously enough. John heard about Jake’s little trip, so he asks about it at the next anniversary party. Jake says the matter is private, so John drops the issue. Vriska overhears and starts hounding him for details. Jake went on an adventure with the two Calliopes and didn’t invite her? This is the most interesting thing to happen in ages! What happened? Who’s involved? What’s going on!?! Jake finds he can’t slip away and ends up accidentally dropping Gamzee’s name. Vriska’s enthusiastic interrogation suddenly turns death serious as she starts squeezing the facts out of him.

Gamzee is enjoying his quiet time at home, waiting for his kids to come back, when Vriska bursts through the wall. A brutal, bloody fight breaks out that lasts most of the night. Right when it looks like someone’s about to win, the Cherub Sisters get home. Callie steps in an demands to know what the hell Vriska is doing. Now that the two are restrained, Gamzee and Vriska argue instead. Calling each other murderers, abusers, manipulators, and every other nasty word the two can think of. Gamzee finally lets slip that Vriska is the one who killed Tavros.

Callie promptly hefts Vriska up by her neck. Even Calliope is giving her weird looks as Callie demands an explanation. Vriska stammers to think of a justification, but she comes up short. Killing Tavros was one of the few things she regretted, after all. Instead, she calls in back up. Vriska fully expects Callie to kill her, so she mind controls Terezi. Everything comes to a halt back at the party as Terezi suddenly shouts about Vriska being attacked down at the Cherub household.

John teleports everyone over there, causing mass chaos when they see what’s happening. Karkat demands an explanation from Gamzee, Callie demands an explanation from Vriska, Terezi demands an explanation Callie, and everyone is yelling at everyone. John, Jane, and everyone else who is trying to get people to calm down are drowned out in the sea of noise, until everything suddenly freezes. Aradia asks everyone to calm down, putting some emphasis on Callie specifically seeing how she’s probably strong enough to just break out of Aradia’s time stop.

What proceeds is effectively a trial, with Aradia reigning as Judge. The question of who exactly is on trial almost sparks another argument, but that gets shut down quick. Both Vriska Serket and Gamzee Makara on trial today and both immediately start flinging dirt at the other. The argument goes in circles as the two throw accusations and excuses at each other, forcing Aradia to break up a few fights. Vriska claims that she had an abusive lusus as an excuse, Gamzee points out that at least she had lusus. Gamzee calls Vriska out on her abusive behavior, John mentions the Pre-Retcon timeline. Vriska calls Gamzee a murderer and Gamzee has to be restrained from beating the shit out of her for what she did to Tavros.

Eventually, the whole thing comes down to a vote. It’s decided that they can’t really hold Gamzee accountable if they’re not going to hold Vriska accountable, as they share a lot of the same excuses and crimes. Regardless of what they’ve done, they still have loved ones among them, especially in the form of Terezi and the Calliopes respectively. Basically, the policy is “live and let live". Earth C is a place of new beginnings for a lot of people. Maybe it’s best to let them start over.

Later that week, Vriska vents at Terezi about being compared to Gamzee. I mean, Gamzee was the big threat that she saved everyone from. Vriska is the good guy here! Terezi points out that Vriska nearly got them all killed and Vriska meekly concedes the point. Vriska decides she should put her money where her mouth is and try to apologize to Gamzee. After all, they’re supposedly really similar and they both just want to me better people, right? So it should be no problem for her to just walk in and apologize.

Gamzee still gives her a chilly reception when she shows up and Vriska isn’t one to take insults lying down. Things quickly escalate into an argument from there before Callie breaks it up and asks Vriska to leave. This pattern repeats for awhile. One would approach the other, an argument would ensue, and Karkat or Callie or Terezi or whoever would intervene and split them up. It happened yearly, then monthly, then daily. Karkat is especially frustrated because he thinks they would make great kissmesises, but neither of them want to go there. Gamzee refuses to give her the time of day for what she did to Tavros and Vriska is so bothered by their similarities that she keeps approaching him about it. This leads to arguments, fights, split ups, and the cycle repeats.

Eventually, Calliope gets an idea. Gamzee’s main hang up with Vriska is what she did to Tavros, right? So, they can just resurrect Tavros, have him forgive Vriska, and problem solved! It worked great with Dave’s issues, so it should work this time. John is getting a bit tired of constantly refereeing their fights himself, so he agrees to help them. They just snatch Tavros’s body from the latest point in the timeline and resurrect him. Problem solved.

Things go off the rails very quickly. Gamzee and Tavros are ecstatic to see each other again and Tav nearly bowls him over with a hug. But, when he asks for a catch up on what everyone has been up too, Gamzee hesitates. Ultimately, Gamzee is serious about wanting to be a better person, for the sake of his daughters', so he decides to be honest. He tells Tavros everything that he did. Everything that happened and why. He even explains what he planned to do to Terezi.

Tavros doesn’t forgive him.

Tavros sees the similarities and they’re enough for him to not be comfortable around Gamzee anymore. He leaves and tells Gamzee not to contact him.

Gamzee tries anyways, to no avail. He begins to shut himself off from the rest of the world. He doesn’t even speak to Karkat anymore. All the good progress he made begins going down the drain. His best bro, his first bro, doesn’t think he’s worth it anymore. What’s he supposed to make of that?

The Cherub Sisters comfort him, try to get him out of his shell. It works, to an extent, but Gamzee quickly becomes possessive. It gets worse day by day, from Gamzee stalking them to him trying to keep them from leaving the house. The Cherub Sisters go to Rose for advice, given she’s the psychologist, but she admits that she’s a little out of her depth when it comes to Gamzee. She advises spending some time away from him and letting Karkat take care of him. He’s his moirail, after all, this is his job.

But, when the sisters go on a trip, Karkat struggles to bring Gamzee out of his shell. He’s far to despondent and doesn’t seem to react to anything Karkat tries. Whenever Gamzee’s about to open up, he looks at Karkat and sees another person he failed, betrayed, and immediately clams up.

When the Sisters get back, he’s an even more possessive, self destructive mess than he was last time, to the point of watching them sleep every night. Calliope decides that they need to time travel again to fix this. John is hesitant, given last time apparently didn’t work out, but he agrees to help. This time, the sisters decide to grab his lusus. But, when introduced, Gamzee’s lusus turns around and swims away, which only sends him further down into his spiral. It’s gotten to the point where Gamzee flat out forgets to eat or sleep for days on end. When the sisters go to him again for help, John tries to refuse, stating they’re just making things worse, but Callie demands that he help out.

This time, the sisters bring Gamzee a recouperacoon to help treat his newfound insomnia. This ends with him diving head first back into addiction. Even Vriska seems concerned when she comes over for another argument, only to find him blankly staring at the ceiling. The more Gamzee’s mental state decays, the more desperate the sisters get to help him. At first, John blatantly refuses to help them any further, because all they’re doing is making things worse, but then he relents when Callie actually threatens him into helping.

When John had dropped them off on a dead planet in the middle of a seemingly Doomed Timeline, he seemed confused. Callie explained to Calliope, once they were out of earshot, that she heard a legend once of a powerful Cherub who got her hands on the Treasure. The Cherub rampaged her way across the multiverse for centuries, leaving countless bodies in her wake, before being killed by a legendary Void Player. They’re there to obtain the Treasure from her body.

None of them notice the torn up Muse of Space outfit hanging on a tombstone. A memorial to an old friend.

When he brings the sisters back, John takes them to Dirk and Dave in order to stage an intervention. They’re creating a negative feedback loop. Gamzee’s falling further into his funk, which is making the sisters more desperate to help him. This causes their actions to become more hasty, which leads to them making short sighted mistakes, leading to an ongoing cycle. The sisters agree to stop meddling and claim they need time alone to sort things out.

But, it’s to late for that now. If some had stopped them sooner, talked to them a day earlier, the sisters could’ve been talked down. But now? It was to late. They were committed now. Their father needed them.

Their plan is simple. Callie reasons that the reason the Gamzee is still suffering, still losing, is that he was thematically predestined to. That’s the theme of his character. Tragedy and comedy. The duality of a lethal joke character. So, if they change what his theme is, what the narrative of his character is, they can change his fate. It makes some sort of sense… even if it is a desperate long shot when you think about it

So, how does one change the themes surrounding one’s character? They just need to change his aspect. Rage is defined by chaos, destruction, discontent, and the aforementioned duality. They just need to change his aspect to something else. And, in order to do that, they need a ritual.

All of reality is made up of games within games. Copies of SBURB that generate copies of SBURB on and on. Those games are made up of code and code can be decompiled. They just need to find the debug tool, reprogram Gamzee’s aspect, and thus eliminate all the thematic suffering that plagues his character.

In order to find the Debug Tool, the Sisters need to jump through some hoops. Using the Retcon Powers, Calliope and Callie approach a random Lord of Light, asking him to use his absolute knowledge to confirm their theory. He obliges, mostly to avoid fighting a powerful Muse of Space. Apparently, in order to find the Debug Tool, you’d have to gather up the fragments of its code that are hidden around Paradox Space. Luckily, the Lord knows where they are, thanks to knowledge being Light's mo. He gives them a list of what to search for and where to find it. The Sisters depart on their journey.

Calliope and Callie come across a Doomed version of Beforus and explain their quest to the local version of Feferi. The Empress admits that she does have something like that and is, in fact, happy someone has come to take it off her hands. The last time she tried messing with that strand of code, she ended up glitching a nearby galaxy out of existence, so she resorted to locking it up and throwing away the key.

Unfortunately, things begin to go wrong once Callie tries interacting with the fragment of code. The Sisters are effectively script kiddies in this “the multiverse is all code" analogy. Meaning, they don’t fully understand what they’re doing and they’re to desperate to fully care. Once the Sisters leave with the code fragment, Beforus's timeline begins glitching. It starts out like a particularly buggy Bethesda game and quickly descends into a lovecraftian nightmare. The Sisters only realize the damage they’ve caused when they see the timeline they just left “crash" and corrupt itself, leaving only buggy horrorterrors and amalgamated monstrosities in its wake. Calliope is horrified to see that they just destroyed an entire timeline, but Callie tries to remain calm. While she’s clearly shaken, she reasons that they can just undo the damage once the Debug Tool is put back together. It’s not like they can save the timeline now, it’s the only responsible thing to do. Calliope reluctantly agrees.

This pattern continues. The Cherubs travel from timeline to timeline, collecting bits of code and leaving buggy messes in their wake. With every piece collected, more damage is done to the very foundation of Paradox Space. Not only do timelines break apart, but survivors who escape said timelines act as viruses that allow the broken code to infest other timelines. People become living, unwitting Trojan Horses, spreading their glitches to other sessions. The spread only gets worse once the infection reaches the dreambubbles. Those who don’t die suffer as unrecognizable abominations.

This just makes the Sisters more desperate to fulfill their goal. Gamzee becomes an afterthought as they start racing to save reality.

Word soon spreads of the precursors of this event. Descriptions of the Capricious Makara Sisters, who would steal the keystones to your reality and doom your timeline to destruction.

The Alpha Trolls and the Ancestors in the dreambubbles team up to try and quarantine the event , with Aranea communicating with Vriska to inform Earth C of the ongoing apocalypse. The Earth C team help out where they can, but they begin to hear things about these so called Makara Sisters. Descriptions and details through the grape vine that sound hauntingly familiar. It’s Roxy who pits the pieces together as her gut sinks in horror.

The Makara Sisters teleport in to find a piece of the code, only to find their friends waiting for them. Roxy, Dave, Karkat, Dirk, and everyone else tries to reason with them. To talk them out of this crusade. The Cherubs don’t know what they’re doing. That’s the whole reason things got this bad. If the complete the Debug Tool, much less use it to mess with something as important as Aspects, they could potentially destroy all of Paradox Space. Quarantine efforts are making good headway, they don’t need to risk all this.

It’s to late though. Calliope is convinced that the Debug Tool is the only thing that can prevent Armageddon. During their argument, Callie breaks down in tears.

Gamzee was the first person she loved. Not appreciated, not cared for, loved. Over time, she’d grown attached to Gamzee. She learned about this things humans called family and she fully embraced it. Gamzee was her father and Callie was going to save him.

Calliope comforts her sister after her breakdown, allowing the two to teleport away.

The Makara Sisters continue collecting pieces of the code, destroying more timelines and making quarantine that much more difficult, until only one remains. The last piece of code, buried deep within Earth C's core. And all that stood between them were all of their friends.

No matter what happens, Roxy will always remember Calliope as her friend.

#villainstuck #long post #the makara sisters #calliope #god-tier calliope #roxy lalonde #dave strider #jake english #john egbert #karkat vantas #gamzee makara #vriska serket

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fangirlingtodeath513 · 5 years

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The Secret Boyfriend | for the @deanandcasbingo

Rating: G Warnings: None Tags: Marriage, Engaged Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sharing a Bed, Road Trips

“Dean? Why did Sam send us separate invitations for his and Rowena’s wedding?” Dean can hear his boyfriend’s keys clatter as they land on the glass table next to the front door and the rustle of paper which is undoubtedly the sound of Castiel shuffling through the mail.

“I’m not sure,” Dean admits with a frown, pulling his t-shirt down over his torso and meeting Cas in the living room. Cas takes one look at Dean’s old sweatpants and worn t-shirt and grins.

“You got the day off?”

Dean laughs and plucks the stack of mail from Cas’s hands, dropping it unceremoniously on the coffee table as he pulls his boyfriend into a kiss. “Yeah, Benny covered my shift since I covered for him when it was his anniversary. I figured we could spend the day relaxing and then go out to dinner later. Maybe look at rings?” Dean tentatively suggests, his nerves quashed the minute Cas’s arms wind around his neck.

“Sounds perfect. You haven’t told your family yet?”

Dean shakes his head, smiling and brushing his thumb along Cas’s jaw. “Wanted to keep it between us, just for a little bit. And I don’t really want to take attention away from Sammy, with him and Rowena newly engaged and all.” Dean winces. “Is that, uh… okay?”

Cas laughs and kisses him gently. “Of course it is, Dean. It’s sweet that you don’t want to step on your brother’s excitement and it’s not like we’re in a rush to get married. I think we’ve both been acting as though we’ve been married for quite a while, now.”

“Suppose so,” Dean agrees, shaking his head with a smile. “According to Charlie, we’ve practically been married since we laid eyes on each other.”

Cas grins, fingers playing with the shorts hairs on the back of Dean’s head. “She isn’t wrong.”

“Maybe not,” Dean muses, hugging Cas against him tightly. “It is our anniversary, I think we’re entitled to being extra ‘gross and lovey-dovey’, as Meg says.”

Cas hums, breath ghosting over Dean’s earlobe as he presses a kiss just below his ear. “Later. Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

Dean bites his lip, chuckling. “Lead the way, love.”

“You really want to tell them the week of your brother’s wedding?”

Dean shrugs as he zips his suitcase shut. “It’s not like either of us are gonna make a big deal about it. We’ve already agreed that we don’t want an engagement party or a big, expensive wedding. Hell, we haven’t even set a date yet.” He brings Cas’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the simple silver band nestled on his finger. The small jade embedded right in the center catches his eye and he grins as he glances at his own ring. It’s the same as Castiel’s, but with a small aquamarine gem rather than a jade. Unconventional, sure, but it fits their relationship perfectly and Dean’s so happy he feels like he could burst. “Besides, I don’t want to hide how excited I am. Not from my family.”

Castiel smiles widely and pulls Dean into a kiss, sighing happily against his lips. “I love you so much.”

Dean laughs. “Do you? I never would’ve guessed.”

“Oh, shut up,” Cas mutters, shaking his head and grabbing his suitcase. “C’mon, we’ve got a nine-hour drive and I still need coffee.”

Dean smirks, grabbing his own suitcase. “Yes, sir.”

The drive to Lawrence is uneventful, thankfully. He and Cas jam out to the classic rock stations and they make it to the Winchester house by dinnertime. Mary welcomes them in with tight hugs and Dean nearly starts drooling when he smells roast chicken.

“Dad’s making his roast chicken? Hell yeah!”

“Language,” Mary chides, smiling and shaking her head as she turns to Castiel. “Good to see you again, Cas. I trust Dean’s treating you well?”

Castiel smiles. “A gentleman, as always.”

“Good,” Mary says with a grin, ushering them inside. “I hope you boys don’t mind sharing the pull-out, rooms are kinda tight at the moment.”

Dean waves a hand at her. “We’ll make it work. Grandma and Grandpa Campbell are here already?”

“This morning,” Mary confirms. “Go set your stuff down, dinner’s almost ready.”

Dean leads the way through the house, Cas following close behind. They leave their suitcases by the couch and head for the dining room, greeting Dean’s father and grandparents.

“Dean! Glad you made it safely, man,” Sam says, pulling his brother into a tight hug.

“‘Course I did, Sammy. Couldn’t miss everything as your best man, now, could I?” Dean grins and hugs Rowena tightly as Sam moves on to hug Cas. “Hey, Ro. Can’t believe you agreed to be married to him.”

Rowena smirks, glancing at Sam. “He has his uses.”

“High praise,” Cas comments with a grin, settling into the seat next to Dean once the greetings are out of the way. “Thank you for letting us stay, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester.”

John waves off the thanks. “Least we could do. You boys had an okay trip?”

Dean grins. “It was great. Way better than flying.”

They’re halfway through dinner when Sam brings up their invitations.

“So neither of you filled out the plus one section.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize we needed to.”

“Oh! You didn’t if you’re not bringing anyone.”

Dean and Cas exchanged a confused glance but before either of them can ask, the conversation’s already moved on.

“What was that about?” Cas murmurs as they’re climbing into bed that night. “Why would we fill out the plus one section when they sent us both invitations?”

Dean shakes his head. “Not a clue. That was super weird.”

“They… know we’re together, right?” Cas asks with a frown.

Dean snorts. “Of course they do, love. No way they don’t.”

Cas seems to accept that answer and snuggles against Dean’s side with a pleased hum. “I love you, Dean. Goodnight.”

Dean smiles softly and presses a kiss to Cas’s forehead. “Love you, too.”

They’re so busy the few days before the wedding that Sam’s weird invitation mention is entirely forgotten. Dean’s fully in best man mode, helping prepare the last few things for the wedding the following day. He, Sam, Rowena, and Rowena’s maid of honor all head for the hotel that night. Dean’s staying in the groom’s suite with Sam, so Cas is left at the Winchester house by himself, as much as Dean hates it. He’ll see Cas at the reception, he can spend a day without pining for his fiance.

Sam’s a mess the morning of his wedding. He’s concerned everything is going to go wrong, he can’t find Rowena’s ring, and he forgot his shoes at the house.

“Sammy, breathe. I’ve got Rowena’s ring right here.” He pats the pocket over his heart. “Alright? I’ll call Cas and have him bring your shoes, it’s not a big deal.”

Sam takes a deep breath and nods. “You don’t think he’ll mind?”

“Not at all, man. Go work on your vows, I’ll give him a call.”

Sam nods, though Dean can see just how relieved he is. Sam retreats into the bedroom, so Dean hangs around the sitting room and calls Cas.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas answers. Dean can hear the smile in his voice and it makes Dean smile.

“Mornin’, love. Sleep okay?”

“I did. How’re things going?”

Dean chuckles. “Well, Sammy’s freaking out about almost everything. Probably just some pre-wedding jitters, nothing to worry about. I have a huge favor to ask.”

Cas laughs. “I figured. What’s up?”

“Sammy left his shoes at the house. I know it’s a bit of a drive, but if you wanna just bring your stuff, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you getting ready here.”

He hears shuffling on the other end, something he can’t quite make out the origin of. “Where would I find his shoes?”

“Bench at the end of the bed.”

More shuffling and then a small, “A-ha! Got them. I’ll grab my suit and be there in less than an hour.”

Dean grins. “Perfect. Drive safe, love. See you soon.” He tucks his phone away, knocking on the bedroom door. “Sammy? Cas is on the way with your shoes. He’s gonna chill here and get ready if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Dean.”

Cas arrives forty-five minutes later with Sam’s shoes, which Dean quickly passes to Sam before pulling Cas into a soft kiss. “Hi, love. Missed you.”

Cas grins and kisses him again. “Missed you, too. Let me just change and then I’ll leave you two to do… whatever else you need.”

Dean hums, slipping his arms around his fiance’s neck. “Kay. Save me a dance, hm?”

“We’ll see,” Cas answers with a laugh.

Dean chuckles and shoves Cas gently. “You’re an asshole. Go put your suit on, bathroom’s over there.”

Sam’s back in the sitting room by the time Cas steps out in his suit, tie in hand, smiling at Dean sheepishly. Dean smirks and shakes his head. “I really need to teach you how to tie a tie.

Cas grins and tips his chin up so Dean can tie his tie, murmuring, “Maybe I just like having you this close.”

Dean grins and drops a soft kiss to Cas’s nose as he straightens his tie. “There. All set.”

Cas gives a pleased hum. “I’ll see you both later. Congratulations, Sam!”

Sam smiles nervously. “Thanks, Cas. See you later.”

The wedding goes off without a hitch. With pictures done, the wedding party heads into the reception. Sam and Rowena come in last and launch into their first dance, a gorgeous, choreographed piece the two of them have been working on for months. Once finished, the DJ calls for all couples to join the newlyweds on the dance floor, so Dean turns to Cas and holds out a hand. “May I have this dance, Mr. Novak?”

Cas grins and allows Dean to lead him to the dance floor. Dean sweeps Cas into his arms almost effortlessly, arms settling around Cas’s waist as they sway slowly to the music.

“Your family is staring at us,” Cas murmurs. Dean hums and pulls him closer, leaning his head against Castiel’s.

“Don’t care. I am surprised they didn’t ask about the rings, though.”

Eventually, the song ends, so he and Cas head back to their table. They’re sitting with Dean’s parents and grandparents near the head table that Sam and Rowena are sitting at. Cas collects their glasses and heads for the bar to get refills, which is when Dean’s family pounces.

“So, you and Cas are pretty close,” Mary chances, raising an eyebrow at Dean.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, guess you could say that. He’s…” he shrugs, smiling. “He’s my best friend.”

“ Just your best friend?” Grandma Campbell prompts. Ah, so someone had noticed the rings. Dean grins.

“Well, actually, we didn’t want to draw any attention away from Sam and Ro’s day, but we’re engaged.”

He looks around the table to find his entire family dumbstruck, which is… weird.

“Uh, don’t you think that’s kind of… fast? I mean, when did this even happen?” John asks, face pale.

Dean frowns. “Well, uh, we’ve been officially engaged for about three months, but we’ve been talking about getting married for about a year, now.”

Sam and Rowena apparently wandered over without Dean noticing and Rowena grins at him. “Congrats, Dean. You two are adorable. Sickeningly so, in fact.”

Dean laughs. “Yeah, we’ve heard that before. Thanks, Ro.”

“Hang on, you and Cas have been talking about getting married for a year ?” Sam gapes at him.

Dean’s more than a little confused, at this point. “Uh, yeah? Why do you look so confused? This ain’t exactly outta left field.”

Grandpa Campbell scoffs. “The hell it ain’t, boy. How have you been talkin’ about getting married for a year?”

Dean frowns. “Well, we want to adopt in the next few years and it’s way easier to do that if you’re married, so…” he trails off, though his family still looks confused.

“So, what, you two are just gonna raise a kid together? What if you meet someone you really want to spend your life with?” John asks.

Dean scoffs. “Cas is the one I want to spend my life with. I thought you guys were okay with me being bi.”

“Son, what does you bein’ bisexual have to do with you an’ Cas marrying just to adopt a kid?”

Dean blinks at them. They can’t really think… can they? At least Rowena looks just as confused as Dean feels. “It’s not just to adopt a kid. It’s been long enough, we may as well make it official as far as the government is concerned.”

“It’s been long enough?” Sam repeats, looking absolutely baffled.

“Yeah,” Dean answers slowly. “Cas and I have been together for seven years, kinda seems like marriage is the next step.”

His grandfather shakes his head. “So, what, you’ve been roommates for seven years, so you’re just gonna get married?”

“I’m sorry— roommates ?” He looks around at his family, raising his eyebrows at Rowena. “Do you have any idea what the fuck they’re talking about?”

“Not a wee clue, dear,” Rowena answers, brows furrowed.

“Cas and I have been dating for seven years. Y’all know that.”

His family looks absolutely baffled, which is disheartening. Cas chooses that moment to return with their drinks, though he seems to sense the tension between them since he just sets their drinks down and sits quietly.

“Uh, no, sweetie, we didn’t,” Mary says softly, eyes locked on Castiel.

“We… seriously? We sleep in the same bedroom at our apartment, you guys have stayed over!”

“We assumed Cas used his bedroom as his office. None of us ever snooped in there,” Sam says sheepishly. “Wait, hang on.” He turns to Rowena. “You knew?”

Rowena scoffs. “It’s quite obvious, dearie. I thought you were all well aware, not blind as bats.”

“That’s why you sent us separate invitations,” Dean says as it dawns on him.

“Yes, I thought that was odd, but Samuel here insisted.”

“And why you asked if we were okay sharing the pull-out,” Cas says with a laugh, glancing at Mary. “I thought you were asking if we objected to the pull-out, not sleeping in the same bed.”

Dean scoffs. “You can’t be serious. Sam, I kissed him in front of you this morning!”

Sam gapes. “Uh, no, you didn’t. Not when I was paying attention, anyway.”

Rowena snickers. “Dean calls him ‘love’, that isn’t exactly platonic.”

Mary shrugs, looking around the table. “John and I assumed it was something he picked up from that British friend in college, Balthazar.”

Dean can feel Cas giggling silently beside him. Hell, Dean would probably be laughing hysterically if he wasn’t so confused. “You seriously didn’t figure out we were together? For seven years ?”

Sam smiles sheepishly and Rowena laughs as she pats him on the arm. “Perhaps everyone referring to you as the smarter brother was incorrect, dear.”

“Well, uh, congratulations on your engagement, then?” Mary hazards.

Dean chances a look at Castiel and the two of them devolve into hysterical laughter, doubled over with tears in their eyes. Dean’s not entirely sure if laughing is the appropriate response, but it’s better than crying or yelling.

“Wait, so when you asked Dean why I hadn’t gotten him a birthday present and he said I had but that it wasn’t family-friendly, what did you think he meant?” Cas manages to ask between giggles.

“Ohhh, I suppose that should’ve been my first clue. Sam thought you’d gotten him a stripper,” Rowena chimes in, grinning as Sam flushes bright red.”

Dean shakes his head, laughing. “Alright, well, long story short, Cas and I have been dating since freshman year, that’s why we decided to room together for the rest of college. Then I got my job in Austin and Cas can work from anywhere, obviously, so we moved. We’ve kinda known we were gonna be together for the rest of our lives anyway so marriage didn’t seem important. Then I got my promotion last year, so we got rings a few months ago and started saving up for the wedding.”

Dean’s family congratulates them and eventually they switch topics. Dean pulls Cas onto the dance floor, shaking his head as he kisses Cas softly. “I can’t believe them.”

Cas grins. “Mm. It’ll be a funny story to tell our kids, anyway.”

Our kids, Dean thinks as he returns Cas’s grin. He likes the sound of that.

#deancasfanficnet #deanandcasbingo #profoundnet #writersofdestiel #destiel #destiel fanfic #samwena #samwena fanfic #my writing

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willow-salix · 4 years

Text

This fic came about after a hilarious conversation with my fellow co-conspiritors @hodgehegposts @hedwigstalons @eirabach and @olliepig. I blame you all for the fact that I wrote this at stupid o'clock in the morning. Bitches!

“Hi, Ebony, how’s the coffin this morning?”

Selene scowled over her coffee cup at the annoying beast that was Gordon. “Choose your words wisely, fish boy, I’ve barely had a sip yet.”

“Sorry, don’t get your fangs in a twist.”

Her eyes narrowed warningly and he wisely retreated. She nodded in satisfaction and took a long sip. Boys are weird, she had always known this. But couldn't he have picked a better time than seven thirty in the morning? Apparently not.

She had forgotten about his strange morning greeting by the time she’d had her second coffee and was so deeply engrossed in a dice reading that she didn’t notice Alan sneaking in until it was too late.

“So, when you and John get married, are you going to be a Tracy?”

“Huh?” she glanced up, having caught around ten percent of what he had said. “What was that, bub?”

“I asked if you were going to become a Tracy when you marry John…” he had moved closer to catch her attention but now he had taken a step back, “or are you going to stay as a Raven-Way?” He ran before she could fully take in what he had said, or throw something at him.

“Raven-what? What is going on with these idiots today?”

“Not a clue,” Virgil shrugged.

“Well you’re no help,” she huffed, taking a picture of her dice spread and tucking them back in their bag, there was no way she’d be able to concentrate now that they had weirded her out.

She found them both in the lounge reading something on a tablet and laughing. They looked innocent enough but she was wise to their ways and wasn't fooled for a second.

“Right, I want to know what the hell is going on, right now,” she had crossed her arms, her foot was tapping in annoyance and a wise man would recognise the signs and tread delicately. The boys were not wise, Gordon does not possess the ability to be delicate. Neither, it seems, did Alan.

“Nothing is going on,” Gordon promised, all wide eyed innocence.

“Don’t bullshit me boy.”

“All we asked was if you were keeping your own name. What’s wrong, was your morning blood not warm enough?”

“I’m a witch, not a vampire, dumb ass, surely you know that”?

“Are you in love with Draco?” Alan asked slyly.

“Draco?” she was instantly distracted, having a love of all things classic Harry Potter. “You know I’m a Draco fan, it was all his parent’s fault, he was a good boy under all that sass and bad parenting.”

“Maybe John will change his name to Draco as a wedding present,” Gordon grinned. "That would be perfect."

Selene’s narrowed eyes darted in his direction. It was a look that should have shrivelled him on the spot, but Gordon was immune, he was puffed up with some secret knowledge, some joke that she was not part of and it was pissing her off.

“She got up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning, didn’t she?” Gordon side whispered to Alan who sniggered.

“There is no coffin!” Selene screamed, getting thoroughly fed up. She turned on her heel and stomped out of the room before she gave in to the urge to kick one of them. Sure, she’d regret it later, because no matter how doofy and annoying they were, she did love them, but oh, it would be so satisfying.

There was only one person that could help her at that moment, the all knowing, all seeing one that she happened to call the love of her life.

“Johhhhn,” she whined the second his hologram popped up. “Your shitty little brothers are picking on me again.”

Ahh there was that eye roll that they all knew and secretly dreaded seeing.

“What have they done now?” he sounded slightly distracted but that wasn't unusual and she didn't hold it against him.

“They keep being weird and saying strange things to me that sound like insults but are really just stupid and I don’t understand it and they are pissing me off,” she ranted without taking a breath.

It took John a second to mentally rewind the conversation enough for him to pick through her words in order to properly respond.

“They’re saying weird things? That’s not that unusual.”

“I know that! And if it was their usual kind of weird I wouldn’t be bothered.”

“What are they saying?”

“You have the same tone a mum does when one child is telling tales on another,” she accused.

“No, I don’t, this is my normal tone.”

“So your normal tone is downtrodden soccer mum?”

“What did they say?” he asked again, ignoring her comment as he did almost all of the things she said.

Selene flopped back against the pillows on his side of the bed, having hidden in the bedroom to bitch about his brothers. She placed her comm down on the bedside table and reached for...yep, she had one of his planets again. She had bought him a small model of the solar system, which he loved, but each planet was made from a different crystal, which she loved. Jupiter was a tigers eye, Venus was an amethyst, Earth a pretty jade and so on. This time she had snagged the small red topaz that was Mercury and was rolling it between her fingers.

“First it was Gordon-”

“Naturally.”

“He said something about my coffin and fangs and he called me Ebony.”

John frowned. "That is weird. And not just Gordon weird. What else did they say?”

“Alan asked if I was going to take the Tracy name when we get married-”

“Well we haven’t discussed it but it would but up to you obviously, you have built a reputation off your name after all.”

Selene smiled. There were no outdated marriage ideas for her man. That was one of the reasons she'd changed her mind about getting married, the fact that he wanted it as a commitment for them, not as a sign of ownership where she changed her name to his and gave up part of her identity.

“You’re amazing, I love you.”

“I love you too," he answered. He had no idea why she suddenly felt the need to say it but he wasn't going to complain. "But getting back to the original conversation, surely that kind of question wasn’t too strange?”

“No, the strange part was when he asked if I was keeping my maiden name of Raven-Way.”

John blinked. “Your what now?”

“Exactly. So I tracked them down and asked them what the fuck was going on-”

“Naturally.”

“There’s that tone again, babe.”

“There is no tone, you are imagining the tone, continue.”

“They asked if I loved Draco and suggested that you change your name as a wedding present. They also asked if my blood was too cold this morning.”

“They're up to something.”

“I know! Now find out what it is, that’s your job after all.”

“It’s actually not, I have a rather more important job than finding out everything they are doing.”

“They are your brothers, therefore it’s your job.”

John sighed the put upon sigh of the big brother that really wanted some peace and quiet.

“I’ll get back to you.”

“Thank you.”

“And make sure you put Mercury back before Armstrong runs off with it again because you’ve left it on the bed.”

“That only happened three times…” his eyebrow raised. “Alright, five at the most. I’ll put it back, OK?” She plopped it gently back into its little holder close to the center and the large citrine that was the sun. “There, it’s back.”

“Thank you. I won’t be long.”

Selene had only managed to read two pages of her book before he was back.

“I think I’ve found the origins of their comments.”

“You have? Where? What is it? Did they tell you? Did they confess?”

“My tablet’s in my drawer, I sent the link there.”

"The link? Was it on the Internet? Are you telling me I could have just googled it?"

"You could, yes."

Confused but also very curious she retrieved the tablet and easily bypassed his passwords and security, they had no secrets, and located the link.

“What the heck is this? You know I’m not really a fan of fan fiction.”

“Just read it, I’ll wait.”

***

“Are you alright?”

Selene stared dumbly at the screen, her mouth opening and shutting in horror.

“Sel?”

Her goldfish out of water impression continued.

“Selene? Are you broken?” She'd been staring into space for more than five minutes, having read the abomination, the utter abuse of the English language and anything that was considered good literature.

“I’ll kill them,” Selene growled, breaking her silence. John breathed a sigh of relief, his woman was a little on the dramatic side but he hadn’t meant to fry her brain.

“Please don’t, can you be content to just hurt them a little.”

“Fine, but first I have to do something very important, I’ll see you later at dinner.”

“Okay, but are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yep, I’m fine,” she insisted as she swiped her comm off the side, slung it around her neck and left the room.

John’s hologram bounced along with her as she stalked down the halls to the lounge.

“Hey, Eb, what’s up?” Alan greeted her, earning himself a very rude hand gesture as she passed by without a word. John’s hologram raised the pointy finger of doom at him in warning, his expression clearly saying ‘look what you two have done, look what I’m dealing with now, sleep with one eye open’.

Selene went straight to the hangars and into her car.

“Where are you going?” John asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“You’ll see when I get back.”

***

“Ow!” Gordon yelped as he suddenly found himself the recipient of a smack around the back of his head from John as he passed behind the couch.

John's hand lifted to give Alan the same treatment but the youngest Tracy was quicker and used a pillow as a shield.

“What were you two thinking? Do you have any idea how insulted she is? I’m going to be talking her down for a week.”

“Lighten up,” Gordon huffed, still rubbing the back of his head.

“Yeah, it was just a joke,” Alan added in their defense. “We didn’t know she’d get insulted by it, we thought she’d laugh.”

“Did you, did you really?” John was not convinced.

“She’s going to kill us, isn’t she?” Alan asked, suddenly looking terrified.

“Probably, not that I’d blame her.”

“Where is she anyway?”

“I’ve no idea, she turned her comm off when she reached the mainland.”

“What would she be doing there?” Gordon pondered.

“Stocking up on knives?” Alan shuddered.

“Eh, I’m not too worried, you know she loves us, we’ll just say sorry and it’ll be fine.”

“What was that?” Alan jumped, hearing voices in the hall. “I think she's back.”

All three of them fell silent, leaning closer, straining their ears to hear the conversation.

“Honestly, I love it, it’s great,” Scott assured her.

“You promise? I don’t look weird? I’m still not sure about it, I don’t really feel like me yet.”

“I promise, you look great.”

“Is he home?”

“Got back about ten minutes ago, want me to get him?”

“Yes please.”

John was already on his feet before Scott entered the lounge, pausing to exchange a rather bemusing high five with Scott as his eldest brother tagged himself out of the situation.

John had no idea what to expect, in fact his mind had been conjuring up all sort of weird and not so wonderful scenarios of things that could greet him when she got home. Thankfully, out of all the things he had imagined, this was nowhere near as bad.

He stopped dead, his eyes taking in the sight before him.

“Wow, that’s different.”

“Good different or bad different?” she asked, tucking her hair behind one ear in the most self conscious gesture John had ever seen from her.

“Good different, not that you looked bad before,” he hurried to add, worried that she might still be pissed off.

“You sure?”

“I’m very sure,” he promised her. “Come here, let me see properly.”

She stepped closer allowing him to study her from all angles. Her hair had had a trim, losing about an inch and tidying up the slightly feathery layers that had been growing out, giving it a sleeker and more grown up look. It flowed down over her shoulders in a silken wave, as straight as a ruler. But most surprising of all was the colour. Her hair was now a deep, dark plum colour all over, the black with lilac streaks a thing of the past.

“I figured I needed a change, you know.”

“You didn’t have to do this, not because of those idiots.” His fingers tunneled into the soft strands, feeling the same heavy weight that he was used to as well as the smooth softness. He twirled a small section around his finger, caressing it with his thumb. He liked it, it suited her.

She shrugged. “I know I was annoyed at first but now I kinda like it. I’ve had that hair for a long time, I guess it was a bit of a statement at first, it made me feel more like me, like I was being true to myself and I just never had the guts to change it after that.”

“You didn’t have the guts? I find that hard to believe.”

“I just worried that if the hair went, I’d lose a little part of myself too, the part that I’ve been fighting for for a long time. I felt like I finally loved myself, the hair was part of that.”

“So why change it? Not that I don't like it, it's lovely, it's very you. It suits you.”

“Because I realised something today and that knowledge let me know that it was time to leave the comfort blanket behind, because I have something more important than hair colour.”

“You do?”

“Yep,” she caught his free hand and tugged him closer, lifting her head for a kiss. “I’ve got you and I know you’ll love me enough for the both of us if I ever have a wobble.”

“I can definitely do that," he smiled, unable to resist stealing another quick kiss. It was going to take some getting used to, he'd never known her with any other colour hair, but it wouldn't be a hardship, she looked as lovely as ever to him, in fact, if pushed he'd say even more beautiful than she had before, something he wouldn't have believed was even possible.

“Good.”

“So, in a roundabout way, Gordon and Alan actually did something good?”

“Yes, I’ll admit that a little good did come out of it.”

“So you’ll go and put them out of their misery?”

“Hell no, I’m gonna make the little shits suffer for at least a week. How dare they compare me to Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way.”

#john tracy #selene tempest #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirdsarego #my immortal

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purrfectstrangers · 4 years

Text

A Humble Request

You've wanted this ever sense you first laid eyes on Karkat Vantas.

It was a thought that had been clawing at you for months. He had a presence to him, a certain dominating air that gripped every room he entered. He was shorter than most trolls, but for his presence, he might as well have been twenty feet tall. His voice dominated nearly every conversation he entered, his eyes pierced you with a critical glare that seemed to read into your very soul.

It wasn't as if Karkat hadn't though about it. You saw the way he looked at you whenever you entered the room, the way his nose twitched and reacted to your scent. His inhuman sense of smell picking up on you long before you entered his line of sight. Hell, you'd even once heard his stomach growl as he was looking at you, causing Karkat to abruptly turn away in embarrassment.

You were positive Karkat wanted this as much as you did. Even now though, with the idea hanging out in the open, he didn't easily show it. "YOU WANT ME.... TO EAT YOU." His default snarl didn't leave his face, although you could detect the faint scent of amusement under his tone. You confirmed enthusiastically, a little shyer this time now that his attention was on you fully. His eyes scanned over you, in a way they never had before. A half smirk flashed acrossed his face for an instant before going back too his snarl.

"YOU KNOW YOU WON'T BE COMING BACK, RIGHT?" His hand slid down too his gut unconsciously, rubbing over it as it poked out from beneath his sweater. It could almost be mistaken for fat, but the occasional sloshing and gurgling suggested otherwise. He'd eaten recently.

Karkat leaned into your face, nose twitching as your scent filled his senses. Just as you could feel his breath on your face, he forced up a slow burp. The smell was at first indescribable, but recognition came in spurts. The freshest smelled like a cool morning breeze, with a hint of gushers and cake. Beneath that, you could smell stale AJ and sweat. John and Dave.

"THOSE GUYS WERE GOD-TIERS. AND MY DIGESTIVE SYSTEM TURNED THEM INTO SLOP. IMAGINE WHAT IT WILL DO TOO YOU." You could easily imagine it. Quite vividly. The very thought of it had you weak at the knees now. He was looking at you hungrily now. Even with your face, your taste, so close, he wanted you to know exactly what you were getting into. All you could do was nod meekly.

He leaned back, arms still crossed. You saw him smirk before he unhinged his jaws, his drool already dripping between his teeth. His thick, sharp chompers dripped with red saliva like the fangs of a hungry shark. His tongue rolled out like a welcome matt, twitching eagerly to taste you. The message was clear: "GET IN".

You slid your hand in between his jaws, his tongue already lavishing you eagerly. His indifferent persona was breaking down, you could see his arms clench as he contained his excitement. Chills ran down your spine as your hand was occasionally pushed up against his teeth. Slowly, you slip you other hand in. His cheeks bulge out briefly before he unhinges his jaws more and you savour the feeling of part of his body tightly clamped onto part of you while you can.

Karkat's hands clamp onto your shoulders. Now that he had your taste, he was impatient to enjoy it. With one quick shove, his throat bulged out. His eyes rested inches away from yours as your arms vanished from sight. Earlier, he behaved like an impatient lover. Now, he looked at you like a starving predator. His jaws extended and his stomach growled. With a grip around your waist, he shoveled your head in.

His tongue lavished your face like an angry tentacle, his teeth clamped on to your neck. You could feel your hands pop into his comparatively spacious stomach. One more swallow sent them into the slop that used to his friends. His tongue scoured your stomach as his teeth teased your flesh. Your head was being compressed from all angles by hot red flesh. You faintly kick your legs as you writhe in his grasp, pleading for him too swallow you more.

Another gluttonous gulp squeezed your head into his gullet, with sudden powerful scents overwhelming your nostrils. The scent of John and Dave plummed off the colorless soup that they had melted into, the gut gurgling eagerly around the new meal that had been deposited into it. Gurgles and heartbeats filled your ears as the red gut pulsed around you. The stimulus overload almost kept you from noticing how Karkat teased your ass, licking and chewing it as your flavour flooded his mouth. It was nervana.

You soon feel Karkat's head tilt back as he finishes his meal. Your face is dropped unceremoniously into the mixture of Strider and Egbert soup as your thighs enter his throat. You're barely given time to adjust before he begins slurping your legs down like noodles. You're quickly balled up inside the smaller troll's gut, leaving a nice outline in his stomach beneath his sweater. The walls pulse and tighten as Karkat lets out a genuine belch, you swear you can feel someone's glasses crack against you. You feel his hand rub against your head. "THERE. HAPPY?"

Even with his regular abrasive tone, he can't mask his satisfaction. "I THINK I'M STARTING TO GET WHAT YOU HUMANS GET OUT OF THIS. IT'S PROBABLY A LOT SMARTER TO PUT YOUR LIFE IN THE HANDS OF YOUR GOD THAN RISK FUCKING IT UP ANY FURTHER." You shudder as he begins his spiel. Twisting and thrashing in his guts as they tighten around you. You can already feel acids rising. "I MEAN, FOR FUCKS SAKE. THESE DIPSHITS COULDN'T EVEN BEAT THEIR SESSION. THEY FUCKED THEIRS UP SO BAD THAT THEY ENDED UP SCREWING OURS OVER RETROACTIVELY. AT LEAST THEY'RE DOING THEIR JOB AS FOOD."

Every word punctuates just what it was you'd gotten yourself into. Even gods, beings with power you couldn't begin too comprehend, were nothing but nutrients and padding when put up against Karkat's appetite. You couldn't help it, you moaned. And while you couldn't see it, Karkat had a big wide grin spread across his face. "I'LL GIVE YOU CREDIT, AT LEAST YOU KNOW WHERE YOU BELONG. EVEN IF IT'S ONLY BECAUSE OF YOUR SICK KINK."

A wet belch rings out, tightening his gut around you eveb further. Karkat pats his belly contentedly. "DON'T DIGEST TOO QUCKLY. I DIDN'T ORDER A LIGHT SNACK."

For anyone else, the long digestion would've been agony. For you, it was heaven. While Karkat would've grown bored with berating you at all hours of the day, he was more than happy to show you off too his friends. Underneath his disinterested act, he loved turning the conversation back too you. Between detailing your taste to Gamzee as if you weren't even there to egging Vriska on as she mocked you. Besides, it would remind him too check your progress when he was alone, groping your ass through his stomach walls to see how much your form would give.

But, all good things must come to an end. You don't know how long it took. Maybe hours, maybe minutes. But little by little, your squirms began too wain. Your strength continued too melt, the acids continued too rise. The loud stomach gurgles would occasionally drown out his insults and tirades. Soon it was almost time.

You skin could feel nothing. The acids were up too your neck. The goopy remains had been absorbed long ago. His stomach walls held you tight enough to keep you still. Karkat shook his stomach lightly. "ARE YOU ABOUT DONE IN THERE?" You knew you wouldn't be heard if you spoke, so you limply kicked. He snorted at the attempt, seeing as he barely felt it. "WELL, I GUESS THAT'S IT. THANKS FOR THE FOOD. I HAD FUN." He sounded... earnest. Completely earnest, with nothing hidden behind his sour disposition. The last thing you hear as the lights fade and the acids rise is a loud burp.

Karkat examined his new physique in the mirror, kneading his claws into his ass. While part of him was annoyed, he'd inevitably get several 'Vant-ass' quips again, he was quite proud of the way he'd managed to stretch his jeans. "WELL, STRIDER. YOU'LL ALWAYS BE A PAIN IN MY ASS NOW. SAME GOES TOO YOU EGBERT." His thoughts wandered too whether they'd come back. In some timelines, God-Tiers simply resurrected after getting eaten, but in others they got... stuck. The image of squishing John every time he sat down amused him. He'd look into the possibility if he didn't see them for awhile.

Karkat flopped back into his chair, letting his belly full of You-soup slosh around as he did so. He picked up a paper titled Human Menu on it and read through it.

Jade Harley

Rose Lalonde

John Egbert

Dave Strider

You

Karkat bolded the last three names on the list to signify completion and leaned back, already imagining how he'd eat up the Alpha Kids. If their Beta counterparts were now sealed inside his ass, they'd probably appreciate the company.

His stomach gurgled around your soupy form, and he rubbed it absentmindedly. Once he'd filled out the list, he'd probably ask Feferi for a favor. Let her revive you. After all, who says you can only enjoy a good meal once?

(I had a Karkat itch that needed scratching and, sense I know you're crushing on him too, I figured I'd share it with you. Grumpy krab makes the best pred.)

--------

//Oh my fucking god, anon. Oh my god. This is divine, thank you so much for sending this my way~♡ I wish I could credit you properly, but suffice it to say that I adore this~♡

#submission #anon #karkat #//vore #//digestion

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livingmybestfictionallife · 4 years

Text

Boston’s Most Wanted

Prologue

Summary--In 1931, Lieutenant Evans of the Boston PD is close to capturing the rulers of the Boston criminal underworld, the Gustin Gang, as well as the illusive mastermind theorized to be behind the ever increasing in success bootlegging and robberies across all of Massachusetts, John Murphy. But what happens if John Murphy ends up capturing Lieutenant Evans? And what if John Murphy isn’t the rugged, jaded, intimidating criminal mastermind everyone thinks he is, but a twenty-five year old woman named Johanna MacMurchadha?

A/N: feedback is always appreciated and the taglist is open!

It wasn’t supposed to go this far, Johanna MacMurchadha thought as she hurriedly scrawled her fake signature across a thick envelope encased with a typed message detailing the most efficient date, time, and location the Irish mob could steal six barrels of whiskey to transport north into Salem and then, eventually, across the border into New Hampshire.

Ten years ago, when Johanna first embarked on the dangerous path that would lead to an even more dangerous future, she was nothing more than a fifteen-year-old girl “befriending” individuals for personal gain. These individuals were almost exclusively young men or adolescent boys that worked in the train yard behind an abandoned house she frequently squatted in. Some flirting would get herself on their radar, the promise of a kiss earned her their blind trust, and the proposal of hiding their affection behind the walls of the train car normally ensured her a score. It was a routine that seemed foolproof--as she lifted herself into the train car, she would sent the rail worker to survey the grounds around them to make sure they wouldn’t get caught by a supervisor. She would steal whatever things of value she could find and then run away into the woods behind the tracks. There would be no witnesses, rail worker would almost always be fired, so she was free to continue this ploy for as long as she needed to keep herself alive.

Her tricks never went beyond empty promises or occasionally showing an unsuspecting young man the silk slip beneath her shirt before she stashed handfuls of bills, bonds, or other valuables into said slip--at least not for another decade. From age fifteen to sixteen, Johanna kept up this charade until she made the acquaintance of a man by the name of Frank Wallace.

After winning over the affection of yet another rail worker, Johanna had heaved herself into a train car upon her victim’s request as he went to inspect the area. Rather than being greeted with unopened bangs of mail and unsecured safes carrying cash, a .22 pistol was pointed at her face.

“We have a problem, Frank,” a panicked young man said as the gun shook before Johanna. A slightly taller man with short, wavy hair parted down the middle emerged from behind a crate and looked Johanna up and down. “She’s just some worker’s girl,” the first man said.

“She’s collateral,” stated Frank with somewhat cold eyes trailing Johanna’s unwavering face.

“You have two minutes before that worker comes back. The two of you can grab about three grand from this car in that time,” she said in a hushed and quick tone.

“No offense, but how do you know all of this, darling?” the man named Frank questioned.

“This has been my territory for over a year and no one suspects a thing. Let’s face it, I’m the only way you can get out of this without killing someone and screwing up the score for each of us.” She looked the skeptical men over once before offering her final bargain, “I can buy you some more time for twenty percent of the loot.” Her trained and alert ears could heard the crunch of rocks beneath boots and knew they were running out of time/ “You have five seconds to make up your minds.”

Agitation spread through the unnamed man’s body, but Frank upheld a cool, matter-of-fact expression. “Meet us one hundred paces into the woods on the south side of the tracks in five minutes.” With a wink, Johanna dropped herself from the train car and linked her arm with the young man who had almost wandered into what would surely be his death.

After that day, Frank and Johanna became inseparable. She’d act as a distraction, buy him, his brother Steve, and their friends some time to knock off a store, steal from unsuspecting, wealthy young men, and peddle liquor to and from various places. The Gustin Gang had long been established before Johanna joined, but she made the group more effective, efficient, and precise than any of the men could have imagined. Unfortunately, the gang’s targets began to recognize her, and although they could never prove she was the one who assisted in robbing them, they knew to keep their distance. Because of this, Johanna took to planning and creating the gang’s looting and liquor toting routes.

Three years after aligning herself with the Gustin Gang, other local Boston gangs as well as countless North Eastern bootleggers and rum runners took notice of the significant increase of success the Gustin Gang was experiencing. After facing death threats from other organized criminals as well as the threat of having them turn the Gustin Gang over to the police, Frank came to an understanding with the leaders of these other organizations: Johanna would provide plans for various other crime syndicates in the greater Boston area--this would later expand to encompass the entire state of Massachusetts--under the alias John Murphy. Frank, who had become a brother to her, ensured the safety of her identity, and after weighing the benefits against potentially devastating outcomes, Johanna agreed.

For six years, between 1925 and 1931, crime in Boston was more than rampant and more than simply organized. Nearly every organization of criminals were abiding to the rules set by one, fictional, John Murphy. Syndicates would remain in their jurisdictions and work together to transport liquor across the state by vehicle, along the coat by boat, and through the country by airplane. Johanna had a simple system: the danger of acquiring what would be transported as well as the organization that owned the means by which the product was being transported in, and the amount of time each organization spent transporting the product all played into the percentage of monetary gain each gang earned. It was fair and they all conceded to that, whether or not they knew that their criminal empire was being run by a teenage girl or young woman.

John Murphy had one rule that was more important than the others: he received twenty percent of the entire operations gain. What began as a way to score enough money to live off turned into an incredible source of income for Johanna, but her intelligence wasn’t wasted devising intricate criminal plans. She knew it was suspicious to hold onto so much money, especially for a young woman who didn’t have any living family to support her , so she covered her tracks, put all of her money in a safe, lived in a modest apartment, and didn’t live outside the wages she earned at her day job as a records clerk at the county court house.

During Johanna’s decade of calculated criminal cahoots and reign, Boston welcomed back a hometown hero from the Great War. Christopher Evans was met not only with love and admiration from the town he grew up in, but also with an unfamiliar, growing stain on the town he knew and loved. Immediately upon his return, he dedicated himself to protecting the town he loved with the same ferocity and passion he had while protective his fellow man in battle.

Within ten years, he’d risen in the ranks to lieutenant quickly, however, since 1925 an irritating challenge plagued him...a challenge by the name of John Murphy.

--- --- --- --- --- ---

“Murphy’s a phanton,” a detective under Lieutenant Evans’s command, and fellow Boston native by the name of John Krasinski stated as he listened to the discussion his colleagues were having during lunch.

“I wouldn’t say that,” another detective named Anthony Mackie, but who went by Mackie, or sometimes just Mack, stated as he joined John and Chris in the break room for lunch.

“And why is that?” questioned Krasinski with a small smirk.

“Because phantom’s don’t exist. Our problem is that we have the most common name imaginable and are, essentially, searching for a needle in a hay stack,” Mackie sighed as he unwrapped his lunch. “Any new leads, boss?”

Chris shook his head as he washed a bite of white bread and peanut butter down with some water. “We thought Frank Wallace knew something, but he’s laying low. Hell, a man as arrogant as him couldn’t ever share the spotlight; as far as he cares, he’s still the most wanted man by Boston PD.” Chris took another swig of his water before directing his attention to Detective Mackie. “Mack, do you think you can get as much as we have on the Gustin Gang out of evidence so I can build a case to bring them in?” Mack nodded as he continued to eat his lunch, and Lieutenant Evans’s eyes flicked toward Detective Krasinski. “John, can you go down to the county clerk’s office and get every piece of information they have on Frank and Steve Wallace?” Again, he received a nod as the three men continued to eat their less than filling lunches. “We’ll get these guys soon, and they’ll tell us where this John Murphy guy is.”

“What if they don’t know anything about him, boss?” Mackie asked as Chris dropped his head to the table and began to clean his mess.

“The have to know. I’ve questioned damn near every criminal in this city and they all point the finger to the Wallace brothers. If my suspicions are right, we’ll have them by the first week of February,” he said with a false hope of optimism in his voice.

“If that’s so I;m taking a long weekend for the wife and I on Valentine’s Day,” Krasinski laughed as he followed his superior to the trash can to drop his napkin in the bin before heading to the county clerk’s office.

“Hell, even I’ll take a break from work once Murphy is in custody,” Lieutenant Evans admitted as he, Mackie, and Krasinski parted ways on their plan to take down the Gustin Gang once and for all.

#Chris Evans #cevans #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x ofc #lieutenant!chris evans #detective!chris evans x criminal!ofc #christopher robert evans

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abundantchewtoys · 5 years

Text

HS Epi: Meat, p8 reaction

It doesn't FEEL like it could already be time for the Masterpiece, but then, what else is there? Until now we've been switching back and forth between Earth C & John. Unless we now go see what post-retcon Terezi has been up to, I guess it might be time to witness the penultimate moment of Caliborn's ascension to Lord English, the last moment being when LE hatches from Doc Scratch.

---

"> JOHN: Zap to your final destination.

Where the hell are you?

DAVE: where the hell are we DAVE: i cant see shit"

Welp it's time for this?? ... Unless John misfired and they're in the Furthest Ring, I'd think that they'd find Caliborn in his station on LOCAM. ... I don't suppose there's going to be an actual stage like in the Vine videos. :P If that were so, it appears someone killed the lights, though.

Maybe something prevents them from actually going to Caliborn, like they're missing a crucial artifact and they wouldn't be able to escape from LOCAM with John's powers to return to the same moment with another retcon. We know the juju almost instantaneously can absorb them. ... It'd be something if the events of the Masterpiece somehow preordained them into doing something first.

"JADE: shhh!

It’s dark. Not like “someone turned out the lights out” dark. More like “someone destroyed the concept of light at its very source” dark." I suppose that, in Caliborn's art, it would be "vantablack" dark due to the absence of a light source he never bothered to draw, but I doubt they just zapped into one of his scribbles he made after John beat him up.

Also, it's a good Light wasn't capitalized in that description. Though, to think about it, Void would look enormously black, wouldn't it? ... Did John zap them into the Void somehow??? It IS the place where Caliborn's soul was stuck for a very long time, after all, but that is after the Masterpiece took place.

"It’s a darkness that fills up your skull. Jake puts this more eloquently, as always:

JAKE: By golly it is indeed dark as fuck." A+ observation, Jake.

"ROXY: shoosh!!!" That makes two of the girls shooshing them. ... For a minute there I thought they recognized this void, until I remembered it was Game Over Roxy and post-retcon Jade that ended up meeting Calliope's ghost.

"Jade breaks off from the group. She moves through the air gracefully, ears twitching as she sniffs through space like a bloodhound. “There!” she exclaims, and points down. All the way down." Being a bit destracted by unformatted sentences uttered by one of the main characters, I'll be honest. But yeah, I suppose the Space and Void player are most qualified to navigate this... realm. Caliborn's version of the Veil, maybe? Since it would appear they're not alone here, after all.

"All the way down beneath you there is a light source. Gray, focused—like a spotlight, except that it’s folded over the curvature of the space beneath it. At the center of it stands teenage Lord English, all decked out in his ostentatious god tier jammies." ... Ah. Not a stage in the literal sense, but Caliborn did prepare a grand scene for this faceoff, in that he literally prepared the shittiest scene imagineable: none at all.

"Gamzee’s there too, for some unfathomably stupid reason. There’s a robot bunny chilling out on top of a chest, lookin’ cool and kicking its cute little bunny legs back and forth." Welp, that sure are the beings present for the Masterpiece. That was the chest Caliborn kept the juju in, hoh boy.

"You hope that neither of these unexpected dramatis personae will play a role in the coming battle, because it wouldn’t feel right whaling on either of them at this point." Of course they're going to stay irrelevant, what are you saying? :B

"Lord English is holding something that looks like... Lil Cal? It’s definitely Lil Cal" So, uh, John recognizes the puppet then? ... Well, granted, he did see baby Dirk/Bro with it on the meteor, and during the ten years since someone must've described the thing to him at one point.

", and Lord English is definitely waltzing around with it in his little spotlight in the middle of the nowhere, swinging the puppet around by both its floppy arms. Well, rather, he was waltzing around. He stopped the moment you looked at him." ... Pffff he wasn't even expecting them right then? He was just playing pretend with Cal for who knows how long.

"> Behold your adversary.

JOHN: ... CALIBORN: ..." No. No, we're not doing this again, are we? The epic frown off.

"JOHN: ... CALIBORN: ... JOHN: ... CALIBORN: ... JOHN: ... CALIBORN: ... JOHN: ... CALIBORN: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

What. The fuck. ... Does... Does Caliborn not recognize John because he's an adult???? Or... I mean... Timelines... Okay, yeah, Blaperile reminded me about something.

Caliborn in the Masterpiece didn't seem to recognize John. So. That could mean that. This. Is. Pre-retcon Caliborn.

Fucking Hells. Even if they get sucked into the juju...

That means. Lord English is pre-retcon Caliborn. But post-retcon Caliborn might be a seperate entity. That means he's an unknown quantifier, but that would mean Paradox Space is seriously screwed, right? A Caliborn not destined to become Lord English would be free to do whatever he pleased with his Lord of Time powers, and then all bets are off. Even if his pre-retcon self became the bane of endless universes, he was still limited, sanctioned by Paradox Space.

FYI, with pre-retcon & post-retcon, here I meant that I think that, this Caliborn never had John zapping into his room. But, now that I think about it some more... He would still have recognized John and the others from the consoles. (Hmm, unless the consoles only showed Caliborn images from B2, but I didn't think that was the case.) Meanwhile, I don't think the ghost of the Caliborn that Alternate Calliope 'ate' would be dressed in god tier jammies and be chilling with Lil' Seb and Gamzee...

"You simply refuse to answer his question. Instead, you do something so much better. Something that will make both his inevitable fate and your regard for his character incontrovertibly clear." Is it a punch in the face? Tell me it's a punch in the face. If this Caliborn turns out to be blameless in the rise of Lord English, the second hand embarassment will be palpable.

"> Give him a thumbs-down." Ah. Beatdown, imminent. :P

"Lord English drops the puppet. For a moment he looks shocked, maybe even a little afraid, but it passes quickly. He starts laughing." Wow, okay. I didn't think I was ready to consider liking the idea of a version of Caliborn that is more jerk-with-low-self-esteem, but, here I'm getting there.

"JOHN: uh. CALIBORN: NEVERMIND. I KNOW WHO YOU ARE." ... Oh, then scratch everything I just said. :P Guess the dorky theatrics finally gave it away, huh? Well, granted, Caliborn is a self-professed slow learner and been shown to be slow in the uptake in some regards.

"CALIBORN: IT WAS FORETOLD. BY THE MASTERPIECE I MADE. WHEN I WAS BUT A BOY." With Caliborn, it's never clear if he's just boasting or being sincere. It might be that 7 years passed for him in his session too, but if he had been 13 at the time he could be 20. Then again, if he was 11... He'd still count as a teenager.

"JOHN: what? CALIBORN: BE QUIET. CALIBORN: I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT YOU JUST INTERRUPTED A GROUNDBREAKING INTERPRETIVE ART PIECE. CALIBORN: IT WAS THE FIRST OF ITS KIND. PERFORMED ONLY ONCE. AND MADE MORE VALUABLE FOR ITS RARENESS. JOHN: wow. CALIBORN: I SAID SHUT UP. IT’S RUDE TO TALK THROUGH THE OVERTURE. CALIBORN: BUT DON’T WORRY. ALTHOUGH YOU MISSED MY VERY IMPORTANT DANCE DEMONSTRATION." ... Interpretive dance. His wickedness really knows no bounds!!! :mspa:

"CALIBORN: NOW YOU WILL PARTICIPATE IN SOMETHING EVEN MORE IMPORTANT." Welp. Caliborn has Fate on his side in this one. He knows what's coming! Guess we're left to see how straightforward everything will unfold now.

"The young Lord’s face begins to distort. The unhinging of his jaw reverberates in the empty space. He laughs through the remainder of his nefarious soliloquy, which he has possibly prepared in advance for this moment." I was thinking he'd start shooting lasers, but it would appear the rest of his 'soliloquy' may consist solely out of "HA. HA. HA." repeated ad nauseum.

"CALIBORN: BY NOW, SURELY MANY HAVE WITNESSED MY MASTERPIECE. CALIBORN: AS IT HAS CIRCULATED THROUGH THE BLACK VEINS. OF THE DARK WEB. CALIBORN: TRILLIONS HAVE WITNESSED ITS MAJESTY. HATERS AND FOOLS ALIKE." That might be a LITTLE bit overestimating it. :P Unless, of course, he's talking about all of the ghosts in the dreambubbles, rebubbling the memory ad infinitum. I'm reminded of Gamzee's rap, though, about the trillions being bled.

"CALIBORN: BUT NOW. THE TIME HAS COME. CALIBORN: FOR EVERYONE TO SHUT UP ABOUT HOW GREAT MY MASTERPIECE WAS. CALIBORN: AND THE TIME IS NOW AT HAND..." To see the truth or lack thereof in the masterpiece.

"CALIBORN: FOR YOU ALL TO *BECOME* MY MASTERPIECE!" ... Wow. Epic.

Okay, that was delivered perfectly.

If we weren't in the epilogues, I'd have expected an [S] page next.

Gotta say, for knowing how this will go in broad strokes, I'm glad at getting the finer details filled in.

So, Caliborn seemed to imply in his Masterpiece Jade still had her First Guardian powers. Guess this scene still takes place in the Green Sun's gaze then. I hope I'm forgiven for being confused. Post-canon takes place outside of it, but Caliborn's session was spawned in Universe C. So at some point, he fell back into the Green Sun's domain somehow. Maybe simply by Entering his session. He thusly entered canon, and gained quite a bit of relevance to Paradox Space.

"A young Lord stands on his stage. It just so happens that today, the thirteenth of April, 11111111111, is this boy's wriggling day. Though it was 18 sweeps ago he was given life, it is only today he will obtain ultimate power.

What will this young Lord do?"

#homestuck #homestuck epilogues #homestuck liveblog #upd8 #reaction #spoiler alert #caliborn

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pretending-ican-write · 6 years

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Pack Protectors

The basic ‘pack dynamics’ you might need to understand this fic.

McCall pack- Scott McCall, Malia Tate, Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken and Brett Talbot Hale pack- Derek Hale, Vernon Boyd, Peter Hale, Erica Reyes and Isaac Lahey Emissaries- Jade and Stiles Stilinski Pack people (not weres)- Lydia Martin, Nolan Holloway, Melissa McCall, Sheriff John Stilinski, Jordan Parrish and Chris Argent

Now on with the fic! 5 times they protected the pack and 1 time the pack protected them.

1: Liam and Theo The Stilinski twins were walking through Beacon Hills with their ‘adopted’ brother Liam and Theo. The latter two were hand in hand whilst Jade and Stiles discussed something Deaton had taught them.

“Am I allowed to ask for brain bleach?” Stiles asked Theo having overheard the conversation.

He smirked, “why on earth would that be Stilinski?”

“Something about Liam and your bed,” the human responded.

His sister piped up, “la la la. I do not need to hear about my little brother’s sex life!”

“Nobody said anything about sex,” Liam defended half-heartedly.

From across the road, a young woman called out, “get a room fags!”

Jade spun around, “what the hell did you just say to them?”

“You heard. They shouldn’t be flaunting whatever this is in public,” she responded.

Stiles spoke, “and you shouldn’t be yelling across the street. It’s bad manners.”

The woman glared at them as she ducked into the post office. Stiles turned around to see his sister being held back by Theo.

“Hey hey hey. JJ, calm down. Deep breaths sweetheart,” he was talking to her quietly whilst Liam was on the phone to, Stiles presumed, Isaac.

Theo caught Stiles’ eye and mouthed a quick thank you.

2: Derek The Stilinski twins were in the supermarket buying the weekly shopping for the Hale-McCall pack, which was a lot considering the number of people they were feeding. They were stood at the checkout paying for the food when they overheard a couple of women talking.

“Have you seen how good that Hale lad is looking?” The first one said.

The other nodded, “yeah. It’s a pity he lives alone in that massive house. I’d certainly be up for some of that.”

“Hold up a minute,” Jade interrupted, “what gives you the right to talk about him like that?”

Stiles continued, “besides, if you must know he doesn’t live by himself. There is a number of people who might have something to say if they overheard you.”

“What’s so wrong with window shopping?” The second woman asked innocently.

He groaned and continued again, “he is not for sale! He isn’t an object. Plus he’s spoken for so shop somewhere else.”

With that, the twins picked up their shopping and walked out to the car park where they loaded the bags into the back of the Jeep. Stiles started the car and drove them back to the Hale house.

They arrived back home where they were greeted by Isaac and Erica who helped them unload the shopping bags and bring them into the kitchen where Derek was stood with Argent.

“Hey babe,” he greeted Stiles with a kiss on the cheek, “I heard you defended my honour at the shop.”

The younger boy blushed, “and how did you hear that?”

“I may or may not have text him on way back,” Jade said with a smirk from where she was stood between Isaac’s legs who was sat on the counter.

Her brother groaned, “oh thanks, sis. What was I meant to do? Let two random women talk about how they would like to have their way with you?”

“Hey! I did my part too!” she added defensively.

Derek chuckled, “yeah yeah JJ. Thanks for protecting my honour.”

“Anytime Der,” Jade said with a salute.

3: Nolan and Brett All the members of the Hale-McCall pack were gathered in the living room of the Hale house for the fortnightly pack meeting. Stiles, Boyd and Erica were sat on one sofa watching something on Stiles’ phone. Argent, Parrish, the Sheriff and Derek were sat at the dining room table going over anything that might have been supernatural over the week. Liam and Jade were playing a racing game with Theo and Isaac either side encouraging their respective partner. Scott, Malia and Lydia were in the kitchen with Melissa preparing fajitas for everybody. Peter was sat in an armchair on his laptop whilst Nolan and Brett were curled up on the other sofa.

“Is there any reason you two are sat on your lonesome?” Theo asked from across the room.

Brett looked up, “you what?”

“You two are supposed to be in the pack yet you spend all your time together at pack meetings,” he continued.

The werewolf glared, “well I’m sorry but you haven’t exactly done much to help welcome us in.”

“Right you two pack it in,” Jade demanded whilst continuing to beat Liam, “Theo your input was not required and he is completely right. And Brett, try not to take what he says to heart, he’s an idiot.”

Both weres glared at the emissary before silently continuing with what they were doing.

Scott watched from the kitchen doorway how Jade had handled the situation and went to Derek, “she’s really come into herself hasn’t she?”

“Jade? Yeah. She can put them all back in their place,” the other alpha agreed.

“Tea is ready! Form an orderly queue or none of you are getting any!” Melissa called from the kitchen.

4: Isaac It was the middle of the night in the Hale house and the sound of rain bouncing off the roof could be heard throughout the house. Jade and Isaac were cuddled up together in their bedroom sleeping soundly.

Isaac began shifting in his sleep, causing Jade to wake up when he elbowed her accidentally. She sat up, rubbed her eyes and looked to her right to see her boyfriend having a nightmare. She quickly moved to try and shake him awake.

“Isaac, hey. Wake up, baby. You’re having a nightmare and I need you to wake up for me,” Jade spoke quietly to him.

Isaac shot up quickly, sitting next to Jade as he breathed heavily. He was visibly sweating and his hands were shaking. Jade pulled him tightly into a hug once she realised he was having a panic attack.

She whispered in his ear, “you’re okay. It was just a dream, it wasn’t real. I’ve got you. It can’t hurt you.”

After a few minutes, Isaac’s breathing returned to normal and he sat up.

“Was it about your dad again?” Jade asked.

He nodded, “yeah. The same one with the freezer.”

“Now do you want to go back to sleep or we can watch a film? Nothing scary though otherwise, I’ll be having nightmares!” She asked.

Isaac laughed, “can we watch Horton Hears a Who?”

“Of course,” Jade responded as she reached for her laptop.

5: Erica Malia, Brett, Erica and Stiles had gone out clubbing for Malia’s birthday somewhere in the city. The rest of the pack had chosen not to join them as they didn’t particularly enjoy clubs. Malia and Brett were both semi-drunk on the dance floor whilst Stiles and Erica were sat in a nearby booth sampling the club’s variety of cocktails.

Around halfway into their Pina Coladas, a guy at least twice their age slid into the booth next to Erica. He was visibly drunk and his breath stank of whiskey.

“Hey, sweetheart. How about you ditch this loser and I’ll show you a good time?” He slurred as he slid his arm around the blonde.

Erica moved his arm, “I’m good thanks. We’re just here for my friend’s birthday.”

“Well, I’m sure your ‘friend’,” he air quoted, “won’t mind us leaving him. In fact, I doubt a sissy like him could treat you like a real woman.”

At that point, Stiles had had enough, “mate if I were you I’d leave.”

“And why’s that?” he leered at the younger boy.

The emissary stood up, “because she’s my sister and if you try anything on her I’ll shove your arm so far up your ass it’ll come out your mouth. Now get lost.”

The guy, clearly put off, left the booth to annoy somebody else.

“Thanks, Batman,” Erica smiled.

Stiles gave her a grin, “anytime Catwoman. Now, what do you say to a sex on the beach?” He suggested with a wink.

“I’m game,” she laughed and returned the wink.

+1: Don’t screw with the pack As was expected with being the ‘protectors’ of Beacon Hills the Hale-McCall pack had to occasionally deal with a rogue supernatural creature or two. This weekend’s activity involved handling a rogue werewolf from a pack they had contact with in Utah. The weres had been joined by their emissaries, Nolan, Parrish and Argent who were sufficiently armed to trap the wolf.

After splitting into small groups to search the reserve, they met up in the middle to come up with a new strategy.

“He has to be here somewhere right Chris?” Jade asked worriedly, “you used the emitters.”

Argent nodded, “it’s quite possible he’s just slipped between where we’ve been searching.”

“Okay. We’ll split up again and have another look. This guy has to be found soon,” Derek commanded.

Jade and Stiles paired off to walk the perimeter to ensure all the emitters were still working properly so the rogue wolf couldn’t escape. About halfway through their checks, they found an emitter that seemed to be giving a weaker signal than the rest.

Stiles checked it was still on before pulling Jade into the shadows, “chances are this wolf knows that emitter is about to die. I suggest we text the others and get them to surround this area then when the emitter dies, which shouldn’t be long, we can corner him.”

“Okay. I’ll send a text to everyone,” his sister agreed and pulled her phone out.

Before Jade could text the pack, a large body jumped down in front of them. The male stood up and towered over the twins, blue eyes glowing in the night air. It was the rogue werewolf they’d been trying to catch.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” he said, gesturing to Jade’s phone.

Stiles spoke to the wolf, “do what? We were just trying to make our way back to my car and go home. We were having a picnic you see and we’ve managed to get lost. I don’t suppose you’d be able to show us the way back do you? We’d really appreciate it. Our dad will flip if we get back late.”

“Don’t lie. Your with that pack,” he growled.

The human laughed, “what pack? I told you we came out to have a picnic and enjoy the view then we got lost and now we really need to get back before curfew.”

“Oh so you aren’t the emissary?” the wolf persisted.

Jade cut in, “I thought that was a political thing.”

Just as the wolf had had enough and was about to take a swipe at the twins, an arrow went flying into his arm. The werewolf howled in pain as the rest of the pack came into view. Derek and Isaac were fully ‘wolfed out’ and hurried to the scene. They pinned the wolf back against a nearby tree so that Parrish could handcuff the wolf.

“Nice shot Nolan,” Jade said as she brushed her jeans off.

He blushed, “how did you know it was me?”

“Because Chris can’t aim that well with a bow,” Scott answered.

Isaac moved to check his girlfriend, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Credits to my idiot brother for stalling him so long,” Jade grinned as he pulled her into a hug.

Stiles rolled his eyes, “how did you guys know where we were?”

“Your sister,” Theo began, “sent a text with your location whilst you were stalling him.”

Jade smiled, “hey I have some good ideas occasionally.”

“Now what’s going on with him?” Malia asked, nodding towards where Parrish was holding the rogue.

Derek answered her, “I’ll let his alpha know we’ve got him. We’ll take him to the loft and he can be kept there until his pack get him then it’s their problem.”

“Now I don’t know about you guys but I’m starving. Chinese anyone?” Stiles suggested.

Peter rolled his eyes, “honestly anyone would think you were the one with a were appetite.”

-/-/-

None of these characters except Jade Stilinski belong to me and all credit goes to Teen Wolf for their creation.

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zhugkp · 6 years

Text

Exile story

Sex, drugs, rock ’n’ roll. The Rolling Stones didn’t invent the formula. But they lived it like no other band in history. And when the rapacious taxmen of England came demanding more cash than Mick Jagger and Keith Richards — not to mention bandmates Charlie Watts, Bill Wyman and Mick Taylor — had or cared to pay in the spring of 1971, the Stones moved their party to the South of France.

When they couldn’t find a suitable French Riviera studio to record their 10th album, the Stones set up in the basement of Villa Nellcote, Richards’ rented 16-room mansion on the coast in Villefranche-sur-Mer. All marble and wrought iron, Richards said it looked like it was decorated for “bloody Marie Antoinette.”

He also liked to recount its history as a Gestapo headquarters, where Nazis did nasty things in the same basement the Stones used to jam all night. The hallways still had swastika-shaped air vents. “But it’s all right, we’re here now,” he assured recording engineer Andy Johns.

By making the record in Richards’ own house, band members figured they could get the famously ramshackle guitarist to show up for the sessions. They were wrong. And Richards wasn’t the only one living on the edge. For a six-month stretch, the Stones swapped partners, ingested every available drug, set fires and nearly drove each other mad while crafting rock’s most decadent record, 1972’s “Exile on Main Street.”

On May 16, Universal is reissuing “Exile” in several forms: an 18-track CD; a deluxe edition with 10 previously unreleased songs; and a super-deluxe package with vinyl, a 30-minute documentary DVD and a 50-page photo book.

The Post got an early copy of the music and the “Stones in Exile” documentary, which will premiere Friday on “Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.” From these, fresh interviews and Robert Greenfield’s “Exile on Main Street: A Season in Hell with the Rolling Stones,” we assembled the most debauched stories of sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll from the people who actually lived in “Exile.”

SEX

Gone was the Stones’ usual stream of adoring female fans. For six months, the groupie-gobbling rockers were housebound with significant others. Jagger even got married to Nicaraguan girlfriend Bianca, then pregnant with daughter Jade, during the stretch. Richards shacked up at Nellcote with Italian actress Anita Pallenberg, close pal of Marianne Faithfull and former flame of late Stones guitarist Brian Jones. Fresh from rehab, she arrived with their toddler son, Marlon, in tow.

While the recording went on, she managed to fool around with Jagger and have half-conscious, stoned sex with drug dealer Tommy Weber on a Louis XIV bed while Richards was passed out next to them.

“It was like a royal court where the nobles were sleeping with each other’s women,” says Greenfield, who spent two weeks living at Nellcote — and a third just hanging around — while on assignment for Rolling Stone that May. He wasn’t the only one to notice the band’s exploits.

“Everyone screwed everyone else’s wives and girlfriends,” Johns says. “That’s just the way it was, and you didn’t think too much about that.”

After Jagger married Bianca, Pallenberg did her best to break them up, even starting grade-school-style rumors that Bianca was born a man. Pallenberg got pregnant, too, but kept using heroin. She sought a secret abortion, not because of the drugs, but because she thought the child was Mick’s.

Richards, meanwhile, wasn’t interested in sex at the time, probably due to his heavy drug abuse. One studio regular recalls Pallenberg complaining, “All he wants is the wanking — he never f – – – s me!”

The Stones weren’t the only ones fooling around. Their sidemen were kept busy, too.

“I didn’t mind living between Nice and Monte Carlo, didn’t mind that a bit,” says Bobby Keys, the Texas-born, libertine sax man famous for honking on “Brown Sugar” and every Stones record from 1969 to 1974. “I didn’t mind all them pretty girls around the countryside. Yes sir, buddy! That’s when you’re sh – – – in’ in tall cotton!”

DRUGS

Fueling the excessive behavior at Nellcote was a huge stash of drugs, many smuggled in by Weber, a former Formula One racer turned Afghani hash runner. That May, Weber traveled from England to the Cote d’Azur via Ireland — “in case he was being followed,” Greenfield says — with a pound of coke strapped to the waists of his preteen sons, Charlie and Jake. At age 7, “my function in life was [to be] a joint roller,” says Jake, who grew up to star in the CBS drama “Medium.”

Everyone who visited the house seemed bent on self-destruction. John Lennon threw up at the foot of the stairs one day while touring the premises with Yoko Ono. Richards blamed it on too much sun and wine, but it was more likely the ex-Beatle’s methadone habit.

As Richards was picking up Marlon’s toys in the living room one night, Greenfield watched him grab a mystery pill off the floor. “Bam! He throws it down his throat,” Greenfield says. “Who knows what he put in his mouth, but that’s Keith. Could have been a vitamin, but I don’t think so. Not in that house.”

Jean de Breteuil, the so-called “dealer to the stars” who supplied Jim Morrison with a lethal dose, bought his way into a two-week residence with a toot of ultra-pure pink heroin from Thailand. Richards snorted it from a gold tube he wore around his neck and promptly passed out. Later, Richards paid $9,000 cash ($50,000 today) to a couple of cowboy boot-wearing dealers known as “the Corsicans” for more of the pink junk.

The smack arrived in a plastic bag the size of a two-pound sack of sugar, Greenfield writes, and was so potent it had to be cut with three parts glucose — hence its nickname, “cotton candy.” It lasted a month.

“With a hit of smack,” Richards says, “I could work through anything and not give a damn.”

One night, Richards passed out upstairs after “putting Marlon to bed” — his code for getting loaded. Johns found him with the needle still in his arm, blood spattered on the walls. The studio whiz poked the rock legend to see if he was still alive.

“Of course he picks up the guitar, which he was in bed with, goes, ‘Oh, yeah,’ and starts playing,” Johns says.

Another time, a chauffeur had to pull Pallenberg and Richards, naked and unconscious, from a bed they’d accidentally set on fire. But the rest of the help wasn’t so useful. The couple’s errand boys, local hoods they called “les cowboys,” were suspected of stealing at least nine vintage guitars and Keys’ engraved saxophones when drug debts went unpaid.

By December, French authorities caught wind of the scene and charged the Stones and their pals with heroin possession. As a bonus, Richards and Pallenberg were issued warrants for trafficking. But all of the Stones had high-tailed it to LA a month earlier.

Jagger, Taylor, Wyman and Watts eventually returned to France to face the charges, but a combination of fame, luck and bribes got them freed with mere slaps on the wrists.

Richards and Pallenberg were banned from France for two years, but they had no plans to return, anyway. They’d fled Nellcote in such haste that they abandoned Marlon’s toys, Pallenberg’s wardrobe, Richards’ record collection, a speedboat, a Jaguar E-type sports car and two pets, Boots the parrot and Okee the dog.

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resonance-and-d · 7 years

Text

Random bits of Hogwartstuck AU I may or may not write

Dave Lalonde, the letter is addressed to.

It's not your last name, but when you looks closer, you sees that instead of just an address, it also says, "The hidden apartment, small bedroom."

The return address says, "Hogwarts."

You are curious, and it's not like this Lalonde guy who shares half your name is gonna come get the letter. It doesn't even have a stamp on it, what the fuck.

You open it.

The letter inside is full of crazy shit. A school of witchcraft and wizardry. Magical book lists. They want you to reply by owl.

Welp. That's a prank, alright. You would suspect John, but it's too weird to be a prank from him- John is a lot of things, but a subtle mindfuck like addressing a letter to the wrong name is a bit beyond him. Nope- this is meant for someone else.

You toss the letter in the garbage along with the junk mail, and don't think much more about it.

The next time you gets the mail, a couple days later, there are three more letters, identical to the first. None of them have stamps, and they're all addressed to Dave Lalonde.

"Huh," you say. When you open one, it is the same as before. Book list. Supplies. Welcome letter. Reply by owl.

You look up to see an owl on a bike rack outside.

"The fuck?" you say.

The owl is large. It also looks exhausted. It looks at you with an intelligence you usually associate more with corvids than owls. Crows are the smart ones- owls are generally pretty dumb.

You think, well, why not?

You find a pencil and scrawls a hasty reply.

My name's Dave Strider, you writes. I think you're sending this to the wrong address or something. Great prank though, I've got a couple friends who would be super impressed. I like the weird parchment, that's a nice touch.

You go outside. The owl is still there.

"If you bite me," you says, "All the crows around here are going to mob you. They know me. They like me. I feed them."

The owl just stares wide-eyed. Because it's an owl, and doesn't speak English. Duh.

You cautiously approach. There's a little tube on the owl's leg, ready for a letter. You roll up your reply and stick it in. Mission accomplished.

The owl nips you a bit and then flies off.

"Fucker," you mutter, and when a passing troll gives you a weird look you flip him the bird.

The next letter, the next day, is addressed to Dave Strider, and that's when you get really annoyed. Bro is on the couch when you walk in. You toss the bills at Bro and walk into your room with the letter.

"What do you have there?" Bro asks.

"Stupid prank letter," you say. "Someone trained an owl to deliver letters, can you believe it? I didn't think owls were smart enough to train."

The next minute, the letter is torn from your hands.

"Hey!" you say, spinning to face Bro.

Bro is already reading the letter.

"Well damn," he says. "I thought for sure you must be a squib. Hell if you ever showed any talent when we were strifing."

"Huh?"

"You're a wizard," Bro says, monotone. "Congrats."

You can never tell when Bro is fucking with you, but you're pretty sure this has got to be one of those times.

"Whatever," you say. You finish the walk to your room, and shut the door.

"Egbert, John," the hat calls out. John walks up to the stool, looking slightly nervous. The hat sits on his head for only a moment before it announces, "Gryffindor!" Ther's a lot of applause from the table in red. You're kind of hoping to get into the same house as him- he's the only person you know here.

(Rose and Jade don't count yet. You just met on the train, even if they're John's friends already.)

There are a few students in front of Rose in line. Eventually the call of "Lalonde" comes, and then, because the universe hates you, the first name that comes with it is "Dave."

Everyone looks around, especially Rose. Awkward. You maintain your poker face. You're going to run into trouble if "Strider" isn't on the list anywhere, but there's nearly half an alphabet to go between now and then. Maybe you'll think of something before you get there.

"Dave Lalonde," the professor at the front of the room repeats. She looks slightly put-upon, lips going thin.

She turns to the tall, wide man who brought you all across the lake. "Surely we haven't lost a first year since the train?"

Someone gets the bright idea to count all of you. Meanwhile, one of the girls at the blue table- Ravenclaw- gets up and walks over to chat with the professor. She looks lot like Rose (like you).

"No one missing," the man- Hagrid- eventually reports. No plan has occurred to you yet.

"I see," the woman says. She shakes her head.

"Lalonde," she calls again. "Rose."

Rose goes up. "Slytherin," the had declares after a short pause. Rose goes to the green table with applause A guy who looks very much like a younger Bro gives her a hug.

"I need to go," you announce, and push past the troll behind you-

"Watch it, fucknugget," he says absently-

-and you abscond.

You don't make it very far. You are nearly immediately lost, and make up for it by flashstepping along as fast as you can. You don't know where you're hoping to go, but you need to get away. Maybe you'll go live in the woods. The woods sound simpler than your life right now.

You turn a corner and flashstep straight into the Ravenclaw who'd spoken to the professor a few moments ago.

You both fall over. You manage to do a fuckin' pirouette over her and hit the stone wall hard enough to knock the wind out of you.

"Are you okay?" she asks, once she's made it back to her feet.

You manage to catch your breath, and sit up. "mfine," you manage. You're about to flashstep away again, but she catches your hand and the human contact freezes you to the spot.

"Dave?" she asks. She looks really hopeful, emotion written all over her pink eyes.

"Strider," you say. "Dave STRIDER, and everyone keeps getting my name wrong, or- or lying to me by fuckin' omission by never telling me about magic or where I was born, and if you have somethin' to say it had better be clear as the finest crystal because I have had it with mysterious bullshit, I have enough bullshit to start my own farm and fertilize it for years-"

She pulls you into a hug, which is kind of alarming. She's not even that much older than you- maybe 13 years old, maybe 14, hard to tell. But she's surprisingly strong.

"You're my little bro," she says. "No BS, no mysteries. Rosie doesn't know she has a twin. We never thought we'd see you again."

It isn't long before a professor comes along. "You're missing your own sorting," he points how. But he clearly sees you're in the middle of a moment, and he doesn't sound pissed. Just- worried.

"I don't understand," you say, more to this girl who says she is your sister than to the professor, who is still taking in the situation.

"Our dad absconded with you when you were a baby," she explains. "No one knows why. You've been missing all this time." She is still holding your hand, apparently afraid that you might run again, but she has released you from the hug.

You want to call BS, but she doesn't seem to be kidding. And this makes more sense than you would like to admit.

"Wait," you say. "Does that mean that Bro is actually..."

"Ambrose Lalonde," she says.

"He can't be my dad," you say in a voice that comes out small. "He's just- Bro."

The professor has realized this is a pressing issue. "Should I call your mother?" he asks the girl, whose name you still don't know.

"That's prolly a good idea," she says. "We're eventually going to need Dirk and Hal and Rose, too, but let's wait a minute on that." She looks at you with something tender in her eyes. "Dude's been through enough tonight," she says firmly. "Let's not be all overwhelming right now."

You are ushered to an office, where some "House-elves" bring you and the girl- Roxy- some food. You realize you've reached your weirdness quota for the day because you don't even blink.

#hogwarts au #homestuck #fanfic #my stuff

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vanquisher2099 · 5 years

Text

Part Twelve: A Hacker Investigates Investigators

Jade was having something of a revelation as she sat at her desk in the Ceres Corp offices, tapping away at a corporate-owned workstation, which boiled down to this: corporate IT officers were, somewhat by design, incredibly difficult to work with. She had been given, per Camila Tower’s instructions, expanded access to the outside network – most of it was locked down for employees, both to protect against malicious attacks and to gently encourage employees to spend less time reading the news, checking their personal email, making posts to whatever social accounts, or watching pornography and more time working. That Jade needed to be able to move about freely in order to find the sort of people who could give a good review of the skills and level of service for a private investigator was met with outright distrust by the head of Information Technology before Camila had gotten involved.

The fact that, if she hadn’t given up access to her old information-gathering network to Maesin, she would have found a decent investigator within a few minutes was not lost on her. Instead she was reduced to the same tools as the rest of the general population. So Jade dove deep into various communities interested in the world of private investigation. Each community was, perhaps due to the inherent desire for privacy that usually led someone to engage the services of a private investigator in the first place, deeply suspicious of any newcomers.

“Imagine you’re someone who thinks their wife is being unfaithful to them,” Jade found herself explaining to Camila later that day, “but you don’t want anyone to know you think that, and you certainly don’t want your wife to know you think that. If you were in that situation, you’d value discretion.”

“Of course, but isn’t anonymity sort of baked into most online communities?”

“Yeah, but it’s online communities frequented by private investigators who are, as a rule, good at figuring out who people are – or by people who think they’re good enough to be private investigators, and what better way to prove it than to, you know, investigate a bunch of anonymous people.”

Camila was quiet for a moment, and let out a long sigh. “You know something Jade?”

“What?”

“I think I don’t understand these people.”

Jade shrugged. “I can’t say I do either. I’m just sitting quietly in a bunch of discussion channels occasionally pretending to be interested in the particulars of someone’s great technique for evaluating a prospective PI.”

“Are you saying that we should conduct try-outs?”

“With respect ma’am, hell no. That would take way too long, and I already feel like it’s taking long enough. There’s a few names that keep coming up, so I’ll dig into them a bit and see what sort of success rate they’ve got.” Jade frowned as a new thought occurred to her. “The problem is we’re probably dealing with people only good at finding out whether or not someone’s spouse is cheating on them, so we’ve got to find the ones who take on cases that are a little more complex.”

“Hence all the time spent talking to people overly concerned with preserving their anonymity, I assume.”

Jade shrugged again. “Pretty much. I have to admit, ma’am, this is one of the strangest things I think I’ve ever had to do as an executive assistant, and I once had to make sure my boss’ cow was properly brushed every morning.”

Camila raised an eyebrow at this. “You’ve never had to hire a PI for a boss before? That’s actually kind of surprising.”

“Honestly, a lot of my bosses had investigative teams on retainer. I’m a little surprised we don’t.”

“We do,” Camila said, “I just don’t want them brought in on something so… unusual.”

“Unusual is probably the right word for it, yeah.” Jade said. “At any rate, now that I’m a little more accepted into the community, I should be able to get you some recommendations within the next couple of days.”

“Sounds good!” Camila said, and moved on to the next item on her agenda.

A few days later, as promised, Jade provided a list of three names to Camila, who glanced over them quickly. “Leavitt… why do I know that name?”

“Oh, apparently he was one of the detectives in charge of investigating that terror attack back in 2099? That explosion at the apartment complex. I guess he decided the private investigation business was a better use of his skills – according to some of the conversations I saw he kind of got forced out of the force in the aftermath of the scandal that hit shortly after. Took his partner with him too – that’s Harold Anderson, name number two.”

“And this last name? Jaqueline Powers?”

Jade shrugged. “She’s kind of a ghost, apparently. Nobody’s been able to figure out anything about her beyond the fact that she’s known for finding the unfindable.”

“Sounds too good to be true if you ask me.”

“That’s what I thought too, but I did some more digging and apparently she’s legit. Famous, at least in the PI community, for finding some dead heiress who’d been missing for two years. Her husband suspected she’d faked her death but nobody believed him and it turned out he was right.” Jade shrugged. “I know it’s still basically a cheating wife sort of job, but the heiress had put considerable money and resources into not being found, which is a good sign.”

“Hmm…” Camila thought for a while. “Alright, reach out to all three of them and get a price.”

“Go with the lowest?”

“No,” Camila said, “we’re going to hire all three.”

Jade’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Ma’am?”

“I believe I was clear. I want all three working on this, to better our odds. Put a bonus on it and tell them if they don’t want to work together they don’t have to, but if they do work together we’ll give them all a bonus.”

“That could be pretty expensive.” Jade said, a little hesitantly.

Camila looked genuinely surprised. “This is a company problem, and the resources of the company are quite vast – as you are no doubt aware.”

“I’ll make the arrangements.” Jade said, nodding.

A few days later, she found herself sitting in a small café as a vaguely grumpy-looking man of considerable size – Harold Anderson – wedged himself into a corner booth.

“John’s chasing some lead on a missing persons gig out on the coast, in case you were wondering.” He seemed almost offended by the idea. “The boy doesn’t know when to let things go.”

“Is that why you and he ended up leaving the force?” Jade asked, politely.

“He left because the higher-ups made him leave. I retired a year later and took this up as a hobby when he asked me for help on a particular case.”

“I see.” Jade nodded. “Is there any way to contact John? We’re eager to get this matter resolved as quickly as possible.”

“John’s not generally one for being contacted on the job.” Harold said with a snort. “Thinks there’s too much potential that sensitive information could be leaked. A little too paranoid, if you ask me, but that’s John.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Jade said, frowning. “I suppose we’re lucky you didn’t go with him.”

“Hey, I know a lost cause when I see one.” Harold said, taking a swig of coffee. “And that case he’s chasing is a lost cause, believe me.”

A voice broke in before Jade could respond. “Says you, Anderson. I happen to think your boy is on to something, even if he’s probably going to fuck it all up somehow.”

“Oh Christ,” Harold groaned, “if I’d known you were the third party I would have said I was busy.”

The speaker, an olive-skinned woman with long hair so blond it might as well have been white, had walked up behind Harold and was grinning like she’d gotten away with something. Jade resisted the urge to snicker at Harold’s sour expression and stood to make room for the new arrival.

“Miss Powers, I see that you already know Mr. Anderson here.” She shot a stern look Harold’s way. “I hope that this won’t be a problem?”

Harold held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, as long as the checks clear I’ll work with whoever you want. Even the clinically insane, like this lady here.”

“You’ll have to forgive my colleague here – he’s probably still angry that I solved a case he’d assured a client couldn’t be solved.”

“It was a lucky guess.” Harold muttered sourly.

“A lucky guess that was based on knowing more than you did, yes.” Jaqueline said with a smug expression on her face. “But that’s in the past. You, I presume,” she turned her attention to Jade, “had something else in mind?”

“That’s right.” Jade said, and reached into her bag to withdraw the envelope and note – without the family tree reports in it, naturally. Camila had been hesitant to allow any more information about her employees out into the wild than was strictly necessary – something Jade, at least, appreciated. “We received the following materials about a week ago. We would, if you could, like you to discover who sent this letter and why.”

There was a long silence as both PIs gave Jade a long look. Jacqueline was the first to speak. “That’s it? That’s the whole job?”

Jade returned the look. “That’s the job.”

Harold sounded like he’d just been told the earth was actually flat. “You pulled three investigators in to find out who sent a fucking letter?”

“Was I not clear?” Jade said, arching an eyebrow.

“No, I mean, you were clear, I’m just…” Jacqueline seemed to be searching for the right words for a moment, “surprised? This is a lot of trouble to go through for a mysterious, vaguely-threatening note.”

“My employer takes threats very seriously.” Jade said, shrugging. “If you think the job’s below you, we can always find someone else.”

Harold snatched the letter and envelope from her hand. “For what you’re offering? I don’t think any job is below me for that much.”

“And you, Miss Powers? Is this job beneath you?”

Jacqueline smiled, showing her teeth. “Of course the job’s below me. All jobs are, at first glance.” She shrugged in an exaggerated gesture of casualness. “But I’m sure there’s more to this than you’re saying, so I’m curious enough to see where this all leads.”

Jade was very good at not reacting, but even so it took some effort to give no indication that Jaqueline had hit somewhat close to the mark. “If you say so.” She pulled a small tablet out of her jacket and made a few taps, switching to a more businesslike mien. “I’ve just deposited a downpayment into your respective accounts. I will be your only point of contact on this case – you are not to approach any other Ceres Industries employee on this matter unless you contact me first and display sufficient reasoning for needing to do so. I won’t insult your skills by requiring regular check-ins, but failure to show any progress within a month will result in termination of the contract. A bonus of 20% of your base pay will be delivered should the two of you demonstrate you’ve been working together, but you are free to work separately if you wish.”

Harold cast a sideways glance at Jacqueline. “I think we can work together.” He said, waving a hand. “Pool our resources. Leverage common synergies. Whatever the hell gets us a bonus.”

“Well then,” Jade said, standing to leave, “I’ll leave the matter in your capable hands. We’ll be in touch.”

“This,” said Harold, continuing an unfortunate streak of being wrong about things, “is going to be the easiest case I’ve worked in ages.”

Part Thirteen

Part Eleven

#science fiction #serialized fiction #cyberpunk

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blaperile · 5 years

Text

Homestuck Epilogues - Meat - Page 12 (Epilogue 2 Page 4)

#Homestuck #The Homestuck Epilogues #Meat #Epilogue Two #Jade #Dave #Karkat

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iamaweechester-blog · 7 years

Text

Children Again (Day 1)

I was just hanging out with Sam and Dean, my two idiot brothers, when the doorbell to the bunker rang. I didn't even know the bunker had a doorbell. I stood up to go get it and when I opened the door I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Chuck stood at the door with four kids behind him. One looked 15, another 13, another 12, one no older than 7. The eldest had black hair while the second had blond hair, while the second youngest had brown hair and the youngest black. I stared at them for a minute until I heard Dean yell. “Who is it Jade?!”

I tilted my head. “Chuck and.... four kids!” I heard footsteps running up the stairs.

“What the hell?”

“I can explain!” Chuck cried. We motioned for him to go on. “Well, a witch came and caught me, Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, and Castiel. Turned my children into... well... children!”

“So..... why weren’t you affected?” I asked. “And if you weren’t, why didn’t you turn them back into normal old ass angels?”

“First question, I was affected, but I’ve looked like this since.... well... forever,” he chuckled. “And I can’t turn them back. This is powerful witchcraft.”

“You’re God.”

“I don’t want them to be normal age again,” Chuck confessed. “To be completely honest with you Jade, I’ve missed Michael and Lucifer not yelling at each other.”

I stood in shock. “Why are you here then?” Sam asked.

“I want you give them the week of good parenting that I never did,” Chuck said. “Jade, you used to babysit. Dean, you took care of Sam. Sam, you took care of Jade. You will be better parents to them until I can find an actual cure. The spell weakened me.”

“I need ages,” I said.

“Michael is 15,” Michael had dark hair and pretty green eyes, obviously in John Winchester’s vessel when he was transformed, and wore jeans, a blue tee-shirt and a leather jacket. “Lucifer is 13,” Lucifer had dirty blond hair and icy blue eyes like his last vessel before Sam, and wore a simple green tee-shirt and jeans. “Gabriel is 12,” Gabriel had brown hair and brown eyes, which proved that he was in his normal vessel when the spell hit, and wore pretty much the same thing. “and Castiel is 7,” Castiel had messy black hair and blue eyes like Jimmy, and he wore a little trench coat and suit as usual.

“We have to babysit?” Dean asked.

“Just for, like, a week.”

“Fine. Come on in, kids. Welcome to the bunker.”

We led the teens and child into the living room, where Castiel ran to the couch and stood on it, giggling. Gabriel chuckled and lifted him into his arms like he weighed nothing but a feather. Michael shrugged and turned to Lucifer, who was smiling childishly at everything. The eldest grinned and went to the library.

“Mikey, you’re boring! You’re really gonna read when all you’ve seen is one room?!” Lucifer cried.

“Yes, Lucifer, they have a tremendous amount of books here,” Michael rolled his eyes.

“Do you like it Cassie?” Gabriel asked the little 7 year old boy.

“Yeah!”

“I’m glad you like it,” I smiled. “Now, let me show you you’re rooms. Come on, morons.” We started down the hallway while Sam and Dean stayed back to research the case a little. This was gonna be one hell of a week.

After all the boys had looked through their rooms and were gathered on the couch, I collapsed next to them.

“So. What do you guys wanna do?” I asked. Sam and Dean glared at me. “What?! They’re kids!”

“Lucifer and I are actually teenagers,” Michael corrected.

“There are some rules if you’re gonna live here. Don’t correct Sam, Dean or I unless it’s on a case. We are adults. I will take off this leather belt and beat your ass with it if you act out,” I showed them my belt. “Don’t act up, and you’ll be fine.”

“Yes ma’am,” they replied,

“Awesome. Do you four wanna play outside are watch TV or... what do you do for fun?” I asked. They all looked at each other before Castiel stood up on Gabriel’s lap.

“When I’m bored.... Gabe, Luci and I play monster,” he said.

“What do you do Michael?”

“Work,” he answered seriously.

“You’re 15. You can play monster with your little brothers and leave the work to me, Sam and Dean. You’re not the oldest anymore, let us take care of you,” I patted his back but he didn’t move. “Are you gonna do as I say or am I gonna make you?”

“Jade’s a beast man,” Dean called from the table.

“Yeah, she’s ruthless,” Sam agreed. “I’ve been on the receiving end more times than I can count. Just play with your brothers and you’ll be spared.”

“I’m that bad?”

“Jade, you’re worse!” Dean laughed. Michael was stubborn.

“No.”

“Fine, you asked for it sweetie,” I grabbed him around the waist and wedged him between the couch and myself with my arm around him as I started to wiggle my fingers in his sides. He instantly started giggling in surprise and the other children turned toward me. I put my face in his neck before he could do anything and started blowing raspberries on the sensitive skin. Michael’s laughter got harder.

“You're doing it all wrong Jade!” Lucifer jumped in front of me. “Gotta get under his arms.” The younger boy wiggled his hands under Michael’s arms that he had pinned to his sides.

“Ahhahahaha! Lucifer plehehehease! Stop brother!” Michael shrieked. The thirteen year old devil grinned at his brother’s struggle before bending down and blew a raspberry on Michael’s shirt. The archangel squealed and fell into helpless laughter once again.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

“Hey Zoe!” I greeted.

“I heard those angels were transformed into kids.”

“ZOE WHAT THE HELL DO YOU STALK ME?!” I yelled into the phone. How did she know? Hell, I just found out three or four hours ago.

“Me and Chuck are close,” she replied. “Anyway, I thought that you might wanna bring the tikes down to the farm. Chief and Copper are bored and I swear to Chuck if Copper scratches up another piece of carpet I am going to kill myself.”

“You know, the youngest, Castiel, is 7,” I said.

“I don’t care and you know that.”

“You’re funeral fam,” I chuckled before hearing Markiplier yell “FUCK I LOST AGAIN!!!!!”. “Are you watching Markiplier? Again?”

“You know I love him!!”

“Okay. I’ll leave your weird obsession to be dealt with later. Right now I’m going to ask the boys. Gimme a sec,” I started over to Sam and Dean. “Hey can I take to boys over to Zoe’s house? She’s got a farm and two hound dogs. And she knows all about the little incident with the angels.”

“Yeah sure. Just don’t get in trouble or lose a kid,” Dean replied, getting a smack on the arm.

“They said yeah,” I said to Zoe. “We’ll be there in an hour... maybe.”

“Okay. Good luck fam.”

“I’ll need it.”

I turned to the boys, who had all ganged up on Michael. The poor teenager was laughing so hard he had tears falling down his fire red face. “Guys, stop torturing Michael and come with me to Zoe’s farm. I promise, you’ll love it there.”

Once we arrived at Zoe’s place, the angels got out of the car and smiled. I knew they would like it. “Zoe’s inside. She’ll have more clothes for you Cas.”

“Why do I need clothes. I’ve got these,” he played with the hem of his trench coat.

“Yes, but maybe something more comfortable. We’re on a farm, and there’s no way she’s gonna let you walk around like some business boy,” I ruffled his hair and knocked on the door. She opened it very quickly and ushered us in before clicking out of YouTube on the computer.

“Markiplier?” I asked.

“It’s a guilty pleasure!”

I started laughing. “Okay, so, boys, this is Zoe. She’s awesome. Zoe the oldest is Michael, he’s fifteen. Lucifer is thirteen. Gabriel is twelve, and Castiel is 7. Hey, got any clothes for Cas? I know you’re nephew is about his size.”

“Yeah, sure. Follow me Cassie,” she motioned for him to follow her up the stairs and he did as he was told. Gabriel looked a little worried, as he didn’t know Zoe and his little brother was going off with her alone.

“Don’t worry, Gabriel. Zoe is a good person,” I promised. Lucifer had gone to the window and was staring in shock.

“Hey, what are those?” he pointed at the dogs bounding across the field, chasing a squirrel.

“Those are hounds, Luci. They use their strong sense of smell to find whatever they are looking for,” I explained. “That’s Chief, right there in front, and behind him is the clumsy puppy Copper.”

“Cool! Can we go play with them?” Gabriel asked.

“Let me ask Zoe when she comes back down,” I said as she walked down the stairs. “Speak of the devil,” this caused me to get a glare from her. Castiel came down in jeans and a light blue shirt.

“It feels weird,” Cas mumbled. I smiled and ruffled his hair, causing him to whine a little playfully.

“Can we go play with the hounds? Please?” Lucifer begged. Okay, if Lucifer is begging, he really wants something.

“Sure thing kiddo. Let me call them up here to get to know you,” Zoe went outside and called for the dogs. Both ran up to her, their tales perking up a little when they saw the boys. “Chief, Copper, sit.”

“Woah...” Gabriel smiled. I saw Michael and Castiel’s face. Both of them were fearful of the large dogs, so I walked over to them and put my hands on their backs.

“Chief and Copper are good dogs. They’re obedient and will not bite you unless you try and take something you’re not supposed to. It’s fine,” I promised. Michael didn’t want to show weakness in front of his brothers, so he went up to Copper and gently pet his head. Chief was behind him and knew the boy was scared, so he playfully nudged his butt. Gabriel burst out laughing when Michael fell, and Lucifer immediately pet the dog, showing his great affection. Michael gave a sort of unmanly squeal when he fell, causing Copper to start licking his face. Michael was giggling like a little kid.

Castiel still clutched my arm, scared of the dogs, and he buried his face in my shoulder. “I’m scared Jade.”

“Don’t be scared, Cas. These two dogs won’t hurt you. Come on, we can go to them together,” I took his hand and slowly started over to Chief. Chief noticed immediately and shook Lucifer and Gabriel off. Castiel slowly reached out to pet him, and Chief sat down in fear of scaring him off. When the little boy’s hand came in contact with his head, he quickly nuzzled it lovingly and stood up a little. Castiel smiled and pulled away from me, overcoming his fear of dogs.

“See, not so bad,” I smiled. Zoe was leaning on the doorway, enjoying how Copper pinned Michael down, making him laugh with the rough tongue tickling his ears while Gabriel, Lucifer and Castiel played with Chief.

“They’re just too cute,” Zoe smiled.

“They are,” I agreed as Gabriel shrieked when Lucifer tackled him in play fight. Castiel was still playing with Chief.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen grown Michael smile. It’s nice,” Zoe chuckled when Michael shrieked from Copper licking his neck and his tail brushing over his sides.

“He’s ticklish as hell. I don’t think he ever got over that, so as soon as he is grown I’m testing it,” I promised. Zoe laughed and I saw both Lucifer and Gabriel fall off the porch. I immediately went to check on them but only got laughter. “You two okay?”

“We’re good!” they called as they dusted themselves off. Lucifer grabbed Gabriel and started game all over again. We heard Castiel giggling and saw him rocking back and forth and Chief licked his bare feet.

I turned to Zoe. “Awwwww.”

After the kids got bored, we headed down to the farm house that held the horses and cows. Lucifer reached in to pet a horse, and Michael walked off to look at the chickens, and Gabriel started to look at the cows with Cas. Zoe and I let them out of our sight for a while to play so that we could go solve a problem dealing with her pigs. They were fighting over the food, so we just put more in there and talked.

“How long are they going to be like this?” she asked.

“Chuck said he’s leaving them with us for a week. I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse,” I chuckled as I went to put the bucket of slop up. Zoe wiped her hands on her jeans.

“I’d say blessing. They’re so sweet, they don’t fight.... perfect!” she smiled.

“And they’re really adorable,” I added. “So yeah it’s a-”

I was cut off by a scream from the stables. I instantly took off to find the source, and I saw Lucifer sitting on the ground, clutching a bleeding arm to his chest. The cut was massive, and I noticed that he got it from a nearby pickaxe that he was probably looking at. Gabriel went to check on him, but I held out my hand. “Gabriel, go inside!”

“No! Lucifer’s hurt!” he whined. Castiel was staring in shock, and Michael had ran across the field to get to us. He reminded me of Dean, running faster than sound to get to his brother when he screamed.

“Gabriel, take your brother inside!!” I ordered. A kid his age, even an angel, shouldn’t see this. “Zoe, get me a med kit.”

Gabriel looked reluctant but still grabbed Castiel’s hand and ran to the house. Lucifer had tears falling down his cheeks. “Let me see,” I ordered softly. He held out his arm and I saw a deep, long cut going down it. “Oh, baby,” I whispered. “Michael, comfort-” I didn’t even get to finish the sentence, because Michael immediately wrapped an arm around his brother. Lucifer buried his face in Michael’s shoulder as he cried, and Michael looked terrified.

“Jade... he needs stitches,” Zoe whispered. Lucifer looked up with wide eyes and I ran my hand through his hair.

“Hey, buddy, once I clean it, put the stitches in, and wrap it, it’ll be over. I promise, it’ll feel a lot better then,” I kissed his head. “Michael, hold him tight.”

“Hey, little brother. Come here,” he whispered, kissing Lucifer’s hair before nodding to me. I poured the alcohol over his arm and got an ear piercing, heart-breaking scream. I had to stay strong for him though. “Sh, it’s okay. I know... it hurts,” Michael sounded very calm, even though his eyes scattered for something other than the horrible cut to focus on. I put my hand on his cheek and met his eyes, showing him it was going to be okay. I had Zoe hold the teen’s arm down as I readied the stitching string and needle.

“Okay, buddy, I’m going to put the stitches in. You need four, okay. Focus on Michael,” I said. Lucifer clutched Michael’s shirt and stared into his eyes, begging for something to think about other than pain. Michael started singing something in Enochian, and Lucifer relaxed. “Okay, here we go.” I started to stitch up Lucifer’s arm and the angel just flinched, gasped, and yelped a little, but Michael’s soft song kept him steady so that I could finish the stitches quickly.

“Hand me the gauze,” I ordered. Zoe tossed it to me as I cut the string. As I started to wrap it, I saw Lucifer put his head back on Michael’s shoulder and say something, causing Michael to kiss his head and rub his back. Finally, I taped the bandages together and was finished.

“All done, baby brother,” Michael whispered. “Now we can go see Gabriel and Cassie.”

“I’m weak, Mikey,” Lucifer whispered. Michael wrapped an arm around his waist and put his good arm around his shoulders.

“Then let me be your legs,” he smiled. Zoe was freaked out a little, but stood up firm and kissed Lucifer’s head.

“You were a very brave angel,” she whispered to him before going to Michael. “And you were a very good big brother.” Michael blushed a little before smiling and starting to the house.

Finally, we had to leave to go to the bunker, and as we drove away, I saw Michael passed out beside me while Lucifer, Gabriel, and Castiel slept in the backseat. I smiled.

“You are just too cute.”

Okay.... this is day one of the week of Jade, Sam and Dean watching over the cute little angels. This was long.

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corvid-knight · 6 years

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Demon Eyes - chapter 19

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740258/chapters/33178092

Eventually, you tune back into things that're happening around you. Karkat can tell exactly when you do that, too; he stops in the middle of a sentence, wrapping his mind around yours and checking you pretty fucking thoroughly for mental injuries.

I'm fine, man, c'mon, you tell him, and immediately undermine that statement by flinching at the sound of a lighter being flicked. It's just D, you ascertain by the simple method of looking up at him, but holy shit the combination of that noise and the faint scent of tobacco catching...

Karkat growls, deep and rough, and pushes a wave of calming safety into your mind. "Put it out," he says sharply. "Now."

"What—" D gives him a purely confused look, then seems to remember the existence of the cigarette he just lit. "This?"

"No, fuck-for-brains, the dim fucking bulb you call your intellect—of course that!" The demon huffs and pulls you closer, glaring up at D. "My brother would be giving you a lecture on triggers and shit right now, but I'm fucking not him, so all I've got to say is that you're going to get rid of that, right fucking now, because if Dave has another panic attack I'll be taking it out of your hide—"

I don't have panic attacks, he's not trying to hurt me, and you need to chill, you think at Karkat in an attempt to get him to quit antagonizing the other hunter. It's okay, babe, I'm okay, you know I'm okay—

"Oh, shit," D mutters as he actually processes what Karkat's telling him, tossing the cig down and grinding his heel on it. You can almost feel the dismay pouring out of him as he fishes the pack out of his pocket and tosses it down to you. "Fuck, Dave, I didn't even think about that—he's the one who gave me the fucking habit in the first place, of course you'd have issues with it—"

"God, you need to chill too, you didn't do anything wrong..." You shake your head, fumbling with the half-full pack of cigarettes for a moment. I really don't want these...

I got 'em. Karkat nods, taking the pack and stuffing it in his pocket. "You're destined to never have anybody be chill around you, and you know it. Not me, not him, not anybody. It's your job to call us out on it now, right?"

"Oh, I can definitely do that." You grin back at him, pulling away so you can get to your feet—and taking the hand D offers, when he sees what you're doing. Karkat himself just rolls up with that insanely enviable grace he seems to show every so often, stepping close enough to wrap an arm around your waist. You

...huh. You kind of really like the implications of that gesture. This is probably called overthinking. Or maybe reading too much into things.

Jesus Christ on a motorcycle, you do know that you're right when you assume I'm being possessive on purpose, right? Karkat points out. Then, directed at D, "Are you going back in there?"

D makes a face, but nods. "Yeah, dude, probably have to; even if I blow off the rest of this, go 'hey I showed my face, cool, I'm done,' I still need to go tell Rose at least that I'm out, maybe say hi to Dirk and his crew—"

"Rose is here?" You have to cut him off and get confirmation on that, and when he nods again you can't stop a stupid grin from spreading across your whole damn face. Holy shit—you get to see your sister. She's probably no more than a hundred feet away from you. Holy shit. "Hell yes."

"You," Karkat states, very firmly, "are not going back in. D's telling Dirk where you went, and we're going home."

Home. Shit. Home, to Dirk and Jake and John's house, except now it's kind of your house, as least as far as you live there.

"Give me ten minutes and I'll drive you," D offers while you're still getting over the whole shock value of having an actual fucking semipermanent residence again.

"We're fine with waiting." Karkat shrugs and leans back against the wall, glancing at you again. We are okay with waiting, right?

"Yes, Karkat, I can handle hanging around out here. I'm not fucking dying, asshole; do you see brains leaking out my ears? Huh? Do you? Does it look like I'm—holy shit!"

Even as your hands come up to clutch at your head in instinctive response to the shock of the fucking huge surge of magic you just felt, you see several things happen at once. Karkat goes stiff and changes, eyes burning brighter and horns flickering into existence again; D drops into a combat stance, his attention obvious flickering between you and everything else, looking for a threat as two knives seem to just appear from nowhere in his hands; and a really fucking big, pure white dog skids around the corner of the building and almost crashes into you, swerving just in time and giving you barely a glance before it comes to a stop and starts barking at D.

"What the fuck—" Karkat starts, but D just waves a hand at him, slipping one knife back up into his sleeve and securing it in the forearm holster before bending down to hold his hand in front of the dog's mouth.

As soon as he does, it drops a very-wet but amazingly unchewed piece of paper in it.

That's weird as fuck, you think, forcing yourself to unwind your hands from your hair. "D, what—"

"Goddamnit, not again," he groans before you can finish your question, shoving the paper down in his pocket and leaning down to look the dog in its bright green eyes. "Do me a favor and stay with these two, Jade? Demons ain't exactly your shit anyway, not in these circumstances."

"Wait, Jade?" Okay, what the actual fuck. You look down at the dog as D heads for the door, and she looks back up at you.

Damn. The eyes are the right color. And you don't know much about dogs, but you're pretty sure that they're not supposed to look this much like they're smiling.

Jade barks again and jumps up on her hind feet, her front paws propped up on your shoulders so she can lick at your face. There is absolutely no way you can avoid this affection. Even though it's getting you hella slimy, you're not sure you want to. She's so fucking happy, holy shit?

Karkat is trying to get your attention. He's backed down from the full combat readiness he was at a second ago, but he's still agitated as fuck, so you reluctantly push Jade off you and turn to him.

"Stay here," the demon says, before you can even ask him what's wrong.

"No fucking chance, if you're going in there." And he's planning on it; he's already moving in the same direction D went, taking long quick strides that have you almost running to keep up with him, and Jade trotting beside you both. "Why exactly are you about to walk into a building full of hunters, again? Like, I'm with you every step of the way, but maybe—"

"Dave, I love you, but stop talking." He puts a soft growl in the last two words, and slips through the door.

You follow, and get really fucking overwhelmed as soon as you're in the room, to the point where you have to close your eyes and let your mind adjust. Shit, you thought it was bad when everybody was feeling approximately the same set of emotions? This is ridiculous—you can catch anger, confusion, a couple spikes of absolute delight, fear, rage—

Okay, okay, I can feel shit; how the hell do I stop feeling it?

That's the question, and Karkat is apparently too distracted to answer it. Okay. That's okay. You can handle this. As long as you don't panic, you can totally handle this.

You're fine.

You try thinking of everyone else's emotions the same way you'd think of your own, in any situation where Bro was watching you: they're there, and there's nothing you can do about that, but if you hold yourself in and don't think about them, don't let your attention get caught up, you can make them not exist for a minute at least. And it kinda works. Makes the dizzying press of emotion recede a little, enough for you to take a deep breath and open your eyes.

And then you have to take another minute to process what the hell you're seeing. Everyone's drawn back from the center of the room, other than Rose (Rose! Holy shit she got really fucking pretty and also really fucking scary) and a pale girl you don't know, at least until she hisses at the other two individuals in the middle of the room and you see her sharp fangs. That's gotta be the vampire, Rose's girlfriend, Kanaya.

The two in the middle really give you pause, though. They're demons. Like, really demons, at least the one in the shimmering warding circle is; the other one you're not totally sure about. The latter, a short and mostly-humanish lady (your mind insists she's a Lady, even if she looks like she picked her clothes out of a dumpster full of rejected neon-grunge fashion and gave herself a haircut with a not-too-sharp knife) seems mostly focused on either the summoning circle or the pissed-off demon inside.

D is over by Rose, asking her questions too quietly for you to hear and receiving mostly head-shake yes's and no's. After a second of hesitation, you head across the room to join them, with Jade right by your side.

"Stop," Rose hisses without taking her eyes off the demon, as you step up next to D. "You're going to make me drop the barrier—"

"Why the fucking christ would you summon a demon? Why here?" D doesn't even sound worried. Just really fucking exasperated, like this is something that's happened before. Your sister is absolutely terrifying. "This is a fucking funeral, Rose—"

"This is a memorial, not a funeral, and I summoned a Balancekeeper, the demon just—sort of came along, I don't know!" She shakes her head, short hair flying everywhere, and spares you a quick glance. "Hello, Dave."

"Hey, Rose." That's literally the only thing you can come up with. To buy time, you glance back at the demons in the middle of the room, and instantly regret it because the one inside the circle seems to be shapeshifting into a really bigspider. Jesus. "Are you gonna, uh...maybe send it back?"

"I didn't summon her in the first place!" This time Rose's voice briefly rises above the hissing whisper she's been keeping it at, to a level that can almost carry a tone of panic, before she gets herself under control again. "I can't exactly banish what I didn't call—fuck, now there's two—"

Even though you don't want to see the damn spider again, you turn around anyway. Rose is right; there's definitely two demons there now, plus the neon grunge whatever-she-is—but one is Karkat, who's approached the warding circle and is standing there with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Thankfully, the other demon's gone back to mostly-human form, not that you can see her that clearly through the shimmering barrier—just an impression of a lot of denim and long messy dark hair. Better than the spider.

As you watch, Karkat meets your eyes for just a second, sending you a burst of reassurance that immediately makes you suspicious as hell as to what he's about to do that makes him think you need that.

And you're right to be suspicious—he takes a step back from the barrier, then lets out a low growl that you can still hear across the room and changes, going from human to full demon in half a heartbeat and spreading his inky-red wings wide.

Rose yelps, Kanaya hisses again, and you're guessing that weapons come out, but you're not gonna scan the room to check. No, you're more interested in getting to Karkat as fast as possible, get behind him and guard his back from the attack you know will come because even if you can't keep him safe you can damn well make sure you go down fighting for him—

In the couple seconds it takes you to reach Karkat and fall into a defensive stance behind him, he's humanish again and the barrier holding the demon in is gone. Rose apparently lost her concentration when Karkat shifted. So now you have to fucking decide, what's the bigger threat: hunters or spider demon?

Karkat seems to have the latter handled, although that might be because she hasn't actually done anything beyond huffing irritably and flipping her hair back. The other one, Miss Fashion Disaster, makes a satisfied sound and steps up next to her.

"Karkat," the spider demon says, drawing his name out in a way that trips both your Instinctive Jealousy and Fearful Irritation switches at once. "What's a tough guy like you doing in a place like this?"

"I was fucking invited." Okay, why does he sound this calm. Annoyed yes, but calm. "Unlike you, Vriska."

"I was invited!" Fashion Disaster points out cheerfully. Now that you actually look at her up close, you realize that there's something fucked up about her eyes; they're red, almost the same color as Karkat's but devoid of pupil or iris, with scars marking the skin around them. Makes sense; she definitely dresses like she's blind. "Well, summoned, but who gives a fuck? Nothing says I can't bring a plus-one."

"Oh my fucking god." Karkat sighs and rubs his forehead. "You can't bring a fucking plus-one to a funeral."

Rose says, quietly but firmly, "Memorial."

The blind neon fashion disaster laughs at that. Really loudly. Vriska the weird spider demon just snickers.

You're really confused right now and kind of wish that this whole clusterfuck was a thing that wasn't happening.

"Can all y'all please leave?" D says. He sounds like this was the last thing he wanted to deal with today, and you sympathize with that sentiment. "You ladies gotta know everyone here is armed and ready to handle threats, but we'd all rather keep the bloodshed to a minimum. No need to get set for another memorial when we're not done with the one we got now, right?"

Vriska grins at him, a smile full of too many sharp teeth. "I mean, I bet we could make a deal for us to leave..."

"Oh fuck no—" Karkat grabs her arm as she takes a step towards D, hauling her backwards and growling back as she snarls at him. "No fucking deals! This isn't a crossroad—"

"It's a metaphorical one!"

"I don't give a flying fuck! I'm not handling the aftermath of your stupid shit today—"

Fashion Disaster laughs again, a gleeful cackle that has everybody looking at her again. (Well, everyone besides the two demons, who're more focused on each other.) When you look at her, she seems to be interested in you.

Shit.

"So you're the one on trial here, huh?" Yeah, fuck, there's no one else she could be talking to. Fuck. Fuck. "Kinda weird, that your blood kin is the one to summon me when she pretty obviously thinks you're innocent."

"Leave him be, Balancekeeper," Rose warns, stepping up next to you. "You haven't heard the issue to be judged—"

"Do I need to, when I can taste how much guilt he's carrying and how many people want to jump up and accuse him?" Goddamnit, why the fuck does she have to grin like that?

...and there's people here who want to accuse me of something? No, not of an undefined "something." You know what you did. They know too, huh? They all know I had Bro killed, fuck—

Yeah. Here comes the panic again. You can feel Karkat trying to curl around your thoughts and get you to listen to him even as he argues with the spider demon, but since you've got your mind mostly closed to keep out everything else, it's not working all that well.

"Hey," the Balancekeeper says. When you don't immediately focus on her, she reaches up and grabs your chin, blunt nails digging in slightly as she pulls you down to look in her eyes. They're red, and they're blank, and holy shit they're so fucking bright it's like looking in the sun. "Let's get this over with."

"Get the fuck off me!"

She does let you twist free of her grip pretty easily, but when you stagger away from her you realize that you're not where you were before. There's no one here, for one thing, and instead of the room you were in, this place is just...featureless. White walls, white floor, white ceiling some unmeasurable distance away from you. What the fuck?

"Karkat?" Karkat! You shout the demon's name and call for him in your mind, and get no response either way. No. Fuck. Please no.

"Calm down, cool dude," the Balancekeeper says. When you turn back to her she's seated on a white platform that's too featureless to be called a chair—which wasn't there a second ago—watching you with a thoughtful look. "You only stay in the courtroom until the judge—that's me—reaches a decision."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure you didn't go through due process, bitch, so—"

"Shush." She shakes her head and crosses her arms, nodding to the second platform just behind you that also wasn't there a second ago. "Sit down, shades off, if you call me a bitch without providing due reason I'll find you in contempt of court."

"The due reason of you being a bitch is that you dragged me here without asking me." You do what she says, though, carefully folding your shades and turning them over and over in your hands as you glare at her. "Or fucking telling me what you're accusing me of." Not that you don't know.

And she knows you know, because she gives you another disturbingly wide grin. "See, we have two courses of action here—one, you tell me what you've been accused of, or two, I scry your past and see for myself."

"Like you could see anything."

"Right, make fun of the blind girl, very mature. If you weren't about ready to have a meltdown I'd find you in contempt of court—"

"Would that get me out of this shit?"

"No. But since you're obviously having issues today, I'll let it slide." She shrugs, sitting up a little straighter. "State your name for the record."

"What record?"

"My record, wiseguy, and also because I'd like something to call you other than 'cool dude' or 'Mr. Black Licorice Guilt.'"

"Mister what now?"

"You taste like you're just waiting for somebody to jump on you and call you out on something; I bet even humans can see it." She shrugs, resettling herself on the white chair, and frowns thoughtfully. "You're also stubborn and that tastes disgusting. Stop it."

"Make me." Why the actual fuck am I antagonizing a demon, exactly? "You know what? You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

That earns you another cackle, and she nods without even hesitating. "Cool andsmart! You can have this point, Mr. Licorice—presiding over today's trial is Terezi Pyrope, summoned to arbitrate a dispute. Hopefully this one, because that's what I'm doing." Terezi pauses, raising her eyebrows in your general direction. "And the accused is..."

Shit. You guess you agreed to this information, if nothing else. "Dave Strider."

"Do you know what you stand accused of?" When you don't answer, Terezi huffs irritably. "C'mon, now, we both know you do. Do I really need to slap a geas on you to get you to talk?"

"Go ahead and try." You resist the urge to reach up and touch the scarred tattoo at the back of your neck. "I'm a fucking hunter. We ward against that."

"Point one: I'm a Balancekeeper, and this is a courtroom—wards against truthtelling spells aren't going to work here. Point two: your warding mark's broken to the point of uselessness." Terezi's mouth twists in distaste, the tip of her tongue poking out for just a second. "That fact is entered into the evidence as Exhibit A."

"You can't have evidence when you haven't fucking accused me of anything!"

"It's evidence in your favor, idiot, and it's not my fault you won't state what you're accused of." She shakes her head, and even though her eyes are just blank scarlet you're pretty sure she's rolling them at you. "So let's try this again. Do you know what you're on trial for, Mister Dave Strider? And if you don't answer, I willmake you answer."

Goddamnit. You don't want her working magic on you, especially now that you're certain that the way Bro scarred your neck rendered the protection rune there useless. Did he know that? Did he fucking care?

"Dave?"

"Yeah."

"Hm. I guess I set myself up for that, huh? State what you're here to defend yourself for."

Damn. That tactic didn't buy you much time to think about what you're going to say. At least she seems amused instead of annoyed, although if you don't do what she wants that's probably going to change.

So say it. Quit being a fucking coward and say it.

"I had a hunter killed. My Bro." Shit. You shouldn't be admitting it. This could get you killed, you and Karkat both, and while you can handle the former you don't want to even think about the latter—

"True!" Terezi snaps her fingers to get your attention, her wide grin replaced by a surprisingly serious expression. "The accused does not deny that he had a hand in the deceased's death—of course he doesn't! Mr. Strider knows better than to lie to a Balancekeeper!"

"You do know we're the only ones here, right? Like, I realize you're blind—"

"The defendant is ordered to shut up. The issue at hand is not whether or not the deceased is deceased, or how said death happened, or who did it. The only thing I'm interested in is justice!"

There's no way Terezi can see you flinch at that, but she still stops talking and frowns at you. "Does the defendant need a minute to stop freaking out?"

"...no." You just want her to get this over with. Whatever "this" is.

"Oh, good. The purpose of this trial is to determine whether the motives behind the death of the deceased were righteous or flawed. In other words, we can boil this all down to a nice yes-or-no question: did he deserve to die?"

You answer without thinking, give her the response your gut goes to every time you ask yourself that question. "No."

Terezi shakes her head and waves a hand, and the wall behind her shimmers and changes, images appearing on it. The first is a picture of the scarred and broken protection rune on the back of your neck. The second is just the word "REMORSE," written in blue-green capital letters. "Exhibits A and B: defendant has been obviously harmed by the deceased, and defendant nonetheless regrets the deceased's death. He's also scared out of his mind; it tastes awful."

"Shut up." She's right, but that doesn't mean you want to hear it.

"Nope. The judge will ignore that remark because of aforementioned reasons. Hmmm...does the defendant have any more evidence to put on display?"

"I—"

You stop almost immediately, because her blind eyes are fixed on you again, and you can feel something sifting carefully through your mind. Before you can tell her to fucking quit it, Karkat's voice speaks out of the air between you and the Balancekeeper.

"He'll kill you. Or he'll keep you like some kind of fucking beast, just so he can keep getting off on having you hurt and scared."

And it's your voice that answers, so raw and hurt that you cringe down in your seat and close your eyes. "So I fucking hope for the former and expect the latter."

"Defendant," Terezi says quietly, "believed he had cause to fear for his life."

"Get the fuck out of my head—"

She's still digging, but she stops and tilts her head thoughtfully, snapping her fingers again. The wall behind her shimmers again, this time displaying a long list of names. You recognize very few of them—the ones that you do know seem to jump out at you, the teal that they're printed in darkening to almost black. Most of them are names of hunters that you only met one or two times, or of people who were known to have information on demons.

"The deceased had killed before, both with reason—" she snaps her fingers again, and maybe a third of the two hundred or so names go bright, accusing red— "and without." The rest darken to black, with just a few wavering uneasily between the two colors.

Wait. That's what that list is? People Bro killed? "That...can't be right."

"Don't doubt a Balancekeeper, Dave."

"But—" It couldn't be that many. Yeah, there were a lot of jobs, a lot of demons, but that many? And there are hunters' names there—he wouldn't kill hunters, why—

You know why.

He told you he'd kill you if you ever crossed him. You've heard him threaten people who disagreed with his tactics—hell, that was a normal thing, to the point that you fielded texts from other hunters as often as you could, anything to avoid a confrontation that'd end with Bro angry and you left to try and dodge the fallout.

With someone like him, there isn't much space between threatening and acting.

"Fuck." You hear the word come out of your mouth, and hope that Terezi isn't going to threaten you with contempt of court again. You're not even sure what that is or what kind of punishment it'd carry.

"The judge would like to go on record as agreeing with that sentiment." Another wave of her hand, and the list of names shrinks to leave room for her first three pieces of evidence. "I'm not really sure if we're using the old laws or the ones humans have set down and use now, but if we accept any judiciary code which allows the death penalty, the deceased would have earned it twenty times over." She gives you a stern frown, and adds, "Which doesn't mean you have the right to pass judgement, just so you know."

"That's not what—"

"The judge is very aware that the main motive for the deceased's death was self-defense on the part of the defendant, even if the defendant was technically not in danger of being killed at that exact point in time. Exhibits A and E—"

"Uh, there isn't an Exhibit E."

"Damn." Terezi snaps her fingers again, and more images appear below the ones already present: pictures of scars on pale skin. You can place every one of them to where they're traded on your skin. "Sorry, Dave—you're Exhibit E; I forgot to add you into evidence."

" ...can we maybe not look at those right now. Please."

She just nods, and the images darken into obscurity. "Exhibits A and E show undeniable proof of long-term abuse perpetrated by the deceased—"

"He didn't—"

"The judge is going to remember that the defendant does to some extent believe that what he's trying to say is true, which means he's not really lying to a Balancekeeper, because the consequences of that would be really bad."

"Sorry."

"Don't worry, I already struck it from the record. Karkat would kill me if I jacked you up just because I could." Terezi shrugs, standing up; you instinctively do the same. "In conclusion: judge rules that the death of Derrick Strider was justified, self-defense on the part of Dave Strider, who was not able to access any other means of helping himself due to machinations of aforementioned Derrick Strider. Dave Strider is not to be held accountable for Derrick's death, or punished for it, now or at any time in the future. C'mere."

"Wait, what—" But she's already grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you down enough that she's able to...lick you.

Eugh.

Terezi's more slobbery than Jade was, and Jade's currently a dog. You pull out of her grip as soon as you can, taking a step back and wiping your sleeve across your face to clear the spot out of your eyes.

"Dave!" Karkat yelps.

Okay, well, you're back in the room where you started. Nobody seems to really notice your and the Balancekeeper's disappearance and reappearance, other than Karkat, who's currently inside a new binding circle with Vriska. Going by the fact that he's got her right arm twisted behind her and his other arm hooked around her neck, you're going to guess that they're not getting along too well.

"Here you go," Terezi says cheerfully, stepping over to Rose and shoving a folder into her hands. (The barrier holding Karkat and Vriska dissolves as Rose gets distracted, but the two demons are still occupied with trying to beat the shit out of each other.) "The ruling and full transcripts of the trial, with known laws that were referenced cited."

"But—" Rose starts. Terezi cuts her off with another cackle.

"You guys are really obsessed with asses here, huh? Vris, c'mon, playtime's over!" The Balancekeeper brushes past you, grabbing the spider demon's shirt as she tries to lunge at Karkat again. "Seriously, give it a rest."

"Fuck you!" But Vriska doesn't fight for more than a second, calming almost immediately and slinging an arm around Terezi's shoulders. "Ugh. Fine. Later, losers."

Rose has her mouth open to protest, but the two of them are already gone.

For a second, nobody in the room moves except D, who's shifting his weight from foot to foot, scanning the room for any new threats. Amazingly, you're the one who actually acts first.

"Holy shit, 'kat." You step over to the demon, trying to ignore everybody else looking at you, and reach up to push his red hair back from the new scratches on his forehead. "She clawed you up, huh? You okay?"

He winces and nods at the same time, catching your hands and wrapping an arm around your shoulder to steer you towards the door. "Isn't that what I should be asking you? Terezi has problems with personal space when she's fulfilling her duty..."

"Well, that is what Balancekeepers are meant to do," Hal points out, falling into step next to you. "Although the question still stands."

"I'm okay." For now at least. Later, you're going to have to get that folder from Rose, go over the list of names—

"There's absolutely no way you're doing that," Karkat growls. "Hal, are you going back to the house?"

The shikigami nods. "We all are, once Dirk and Jake get John to quit trying to fight some idiot. Rose and the others might actually get there before we do, at this rate—you should ride with them."

"Uh..." Damn, now I have to make decisions.

No, Dave, you really don't, don't worry. Karkat shakes his head and reaches over to grab D's arm, pulling him along towards the exit. "You're the driver, right?"

"Yep." D shakes the demon off after a second, offering you a quick smile. "Sorry. That might've been more than ten minutes."

"I mean, I was the one who held shit up, so..." You shrug. "We're going home now. It's all good."

And despite the fact that you have no real reason to, you feel just a little less shitty about having your Bro killed. Maybe it's because the Balancekeeper promised that you won't be punished for it, now or ever.

Stupid, but you feel safer.

It's good.

#demon eyes

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